The very night after this affair of the ticket, came a ‘German,’ pure and simple, at one of the far-off houses of the neighbourhood.  The daughters here were of Miss Fisher’s persuasion; and among them they had arranged the whole affair.  This should be a ‘German,’ and nothing else.  Kitty Fisher was to lead, and neither quadrille nor country dance would be tolerated for a moment.  Miss Kennedy found on her arrival that, for this night at least, round dances were paramount:  it was such, or none.  Well, she thought she could stand it, at first,—­there were enough people always ready to promenade.  But this was not an outdoor party, the night was too cool to make it even partially such; and to walk the whole evening in the moonlight is one thing, and in the gaslight quite another.  Then Kitty Fisher was in a merciless mood,—­and Hazel could not head her off with flat denials; because, though not really under orders, she well knew how much Mr. Rollo had to do with what they termed ‘her new kink about dancing.’  And even worse than the open charge that she was afraid to disobey, were the covert insinuations that she was anxious to please.

Then (to tell the whole truth) she did very much long for another flight among the gay flags and ribbands which made the German so lively,—­she could not see the harm!  Only she could never have done it with those grey eyes looking on and drawing their own false conclusions about everybody and everything.  But to-night he was not on hand:  the guests had all arrived long ago, and no guardian in any shape among them.  And so, over persuaded by circumstances, and especially by Mr. Nightingale, who made himself rather more than a circumstance, Wych hazel gave him her hand and went forward to take her place.  Under pledge, however, that if any one of the new figures came up she had leave to retire.  A burst of applause and congratulation hailed her appearance; and in a very few minutes she had forgotten all but the music and the whirl of intoxication.  Even partners sank into insignificance, and became only so many facilities for so much delight.  Not so easily could her partners forget her,—­the girlish face, sometimes grave with its own enjoyment, and then—­’bright as a constellation!’—­declared Mr. Simms; the grace of manner which kept its distance well; the diaphonous dress which floated around her like a golden haze; the scarlet flowers in her hair.  Never had she danced, never looked, more thoroughly herself.

There are times when we get a lesson from without,—­there are others when it must come from within; and Mr. Rollo, who had given the first, was now to see his work finished by the second.  Wych Hazel was wrong, he was there; but he had come late, and if any of the dancers saw him they kept it hush; so that he looked on at his ward without her knowledge.  But it must be noted as an instance of the perversity of Mr. Rollo’s mind, that the more thoroughly he perceived the difference between Wych Hazel and her companions, the less he liked to have her among them; and every point in the dance where she escaped without even a touch upon her modest bearing, as if truly no one dared take liberties with her, made him half wild to get her out of it altogether.