‘Dear-ah-me!  Is she really!  Do you know I never saw a duchess before.’  And Miss Piper drew herself up and craned her neck, as if resolved to ‘behave herself properly,’ as she had been taught to do at boarding-school thirty years before, in the presence of ‘her grace.’  By-and-by she said to Miss Phoebe, with a sudden jerk out of position,—­’Look, look! that’s our Mr. Cholmley, the magistrate’ (he was the great man of Coreham), ’and that’s Mrs. Cholmley in red satin, and Mr. George and Mr. Harry from Oxford, I do declare; and Miss Cholmley, and pretty Miss Sophy.  I should like to go and speak to them, but then it’s so formidable crossing a room without a gentleman.  And there is Coxe the butcher and his wife!  Why, all Coreham seems to be here!  And how Mrs. Coxe can afford such a gown I can’t make out for one, for I know Coxe had some difficulty in paying for the last sheep he bought of my brother.’

Just at this moment the band, consisting of two violins, a harp, and an occasional clarionet, having finished their tuning, and brought themselves as nearly into accord as was possible, struck up a brisk country-dance, and partners quickly took their places.  Mrs. Gibson was secretly a little annoyed at Cynthia’s being one of those to stand up in this early dance, the performers in which were principally the punctual plebeians of Hollingford, who, when a ball was fixed to begin at eight, had no notion of being later, and so losing part of the amusement for which they had paid their money.  She imparted some of her feelings to Molly, sitting by her, longing to dance, and beating time to the spirited music with one of her pretty little feet.

’Your dear papa is always so very punctual!  To-night it seems almost a pity, for we really are here before there is any one come that we know.’

’Oh!  I see so many people here that I know.  There are Mr. and Mrs Smeaton, and that nice good-tempered daughter.’

‘Oh! booksellers and butchers if you will.’

‘Papa has found a great many friends to talk to.’

’Patients, my dear—­hardly friends.  There are some nice-looking people here,’ catching her eye on the Cholmleys; ’but I daresay they have driven over from the neighbourhood of Ashcombe or Coreham, and have hardly calculated how soon they would get here.  I wonder when the Towers’ party will come.  Ah! there’s Mr. Ashton, and Mr. Preston.  Come, the room is beginning to fill.’

So it was, for this was to be a very good ball, people said; and a large party from the Towers was coming, and a duchess in diamonds among the number.  Every great house in the district was expected to be full of guests on these occasions; but, at this early hour, the townspeople had the floor almost entirely to themselves; the county magnates came dropping in later; and chiefest among them all was the lord-lieutenant from the Towers.  But to-night they were unusually late, and the aristocratic ozone being absent from the atmosphere, there was a