“Oh, thank you,” said Rachel, warmly.

He observed with some amusement Rachel’s utter absence of small dexterities, and of even the effort to avoid the humiliation of a confession of her error.  Miss Grey and a boy partner had wandered into the conservatory, and were rather dismally trying to seem occupied with the camellias when Rachel made her way to them, and though he could not actually hear the words, he knew pretty well what they were.  “Emily, you were right after all, and I was mistaken,” and then as he drew near, “Miss Grey, Captain Keith wishes to be introduced to you.”

It had been a great shock to Rachel’s infallibility, and as she slowly began working her way in search of her mother, after observing the felicity of Emily’s bright eyes, she fell into a musing on the advantages of early youth in its indiscriminating powers of enthusiasm for anything distinguished for anything, and that sense of self-exaltation in any sort of contact with a person who had been publicly spoken of.  “There is genuine heroism in him,” thought Rachel, “but it is just in what Emily would never appreciate—­it is in the feeling that he could not help doing as he did; the half-grudging his reward to himself because other deeds have passed unspoken.  I wonder whether his ironical humour would allow him to see that Mr. Mauleverer is as veritable a hero in yielding hopes of consideration, prospects, honours, to his sense of truth and uprightness.  If he would only look with an unprejudiced eye, I know he would be candid.”

“Are you looking for Mrs. Curtis?” said Colonel Keith.  “I think she is in the other room.”

“Not particularly, thank you,” said Rachel, and she was surprised to find how glad she was to look up freely at him.

“Would it be contrary to your principles or practice to dance with me?”

“To my practice,” she said smilingly, “so let us find my mother.  Is Miss Alison Williams here?  I never heard whether it was settled that she should come,” she added, resolved both to show him her knowledge of his situation, and to let her mother see her at her ease with him.

“No, she was obstinate, though her sister and I did our utmost to persuade her, and the boys were crazy to make her go.”

“I can’t understand your wishing it.”

“Not as an experience of life?  Alison never went to anything in her girlhood, but devoted herself solely to her sister, and it would be pleasant to see her begin her youth.”

“Not as a mere young lady!” exclaimed Rachel.

“That is happily not possible.”

An answer that somewhat puzzled Rachel, whose regard for him was likely to be a good deal dependent upon his contentment with Alison’s station in life.

“I must say young ladyhood looks to the greatest advantage there,” Rachel could not help exclaiming, as at that moment Elizabeth Keith smiled at them, as she floated past, her airy white draperies looped with scarlet ribbons; her dark hair turned back and fastened by a snood of the same, an eagle’s feather clasped in it by a large emerald, a memory of her father’s last siege—­that of Lucknow.