‘Haven’t I submitted to somebody’s lead?’

’Yes, but with a sort of “under protest.”  I saw it by the mouth.  Not quite natural.  You have been moody ever since—­just a little.  I suppose it’s our manly pride.  But I’m losing time.  Will you promise me not to brood over that occurrence?  Think of me.  Think everything of me.  I am yours; and, dearest, if I love you, need you care what anybody else thinks?  We will soon change their opinion.’

‘I care so little,’ said Evan, somewhat untruthfully, ’that till you return I shall go and sit with my mother.’

’Oh, she has gone.  She made her dear old antiquated curtsey to Mama and the company.  “If my son has not been guilty of deception, I will leave him to your good pleasure, my lady.”  That’s what she said.  Mama likes her, I know.  But I wish she didn’t mouth her words so precisely:  it reminds me of—­’ the Countess, Rose checked herself from saying.  ’Good-bye.  Thank heaven! the worst has happened.  Do you know what I should do if I were you, and felt at all distressed?  I should keep repeating,’ Rose looked archly and deeply up under his eyelids, “’I am the son of a tradesman, and Rose loves me,” over and over, and then, if you feel ashamed, what is it of?’

She nodded adieu, laughing at her own idea of her great worth; an idea very firmly fixed in her fair bosom, notwithstanding.  Mrs. Melville said of her, ‘I used to think she had pride.’  Lady Jocelyn answered, ’So she has.  The misfortune is that it has taken the wrong turning.’

Evan watched the figure that was to him as that of an angel—­no less!  She spoke so frankly to them as she passed:  or here and there went on with a light laugh.  It seemed an act of graciousness that she should open her mouth to one!  And, indeed, by virtue of a pride which raised her to the level of what she thought it well to do, Rose was veritably on higher ground than any present.  She no longer envied her friend Jenny, who, emerging from the shades, allured by the waltz, dislinked herself from William’s arm, and whispered exclamations of sorrow at the scene created by Mr. Harrington’s mother.  Rose patted her hand, and said:  ’Thank you, Jenny dear but don’t be sorry.  I’m glad.  It prevents a number of private explanations.’

‘Still, dear!’ Jenny suggested.

’Oh! of course, I should like to lay my whip across the shoulders of the person who arranged the conspiracy,’ said Rose.  ’And afterwards I don’t mind returning thanks to him, or her, or them.’

William cried out, ’I ‘m always on your side, Rose.’

‘And I’ll be Jenny’s bridesmaid,’ rejoined Rose, stepping blithely away from them.

Evan debated whither to turn when Rose was lost to his eyes.  He had no heart for dancing.  Presently a servant approached, and said that Mr. Harry particularly desired to see him.  From Harry’s looks at table, Evan judged that the interview was not likely to be amicable.  He asked the direction he was to take, and setting out with long strides, came in sight of Raikes, who walked in gloom, and was evidently labouring under one of his mountains of melancholy.  He affected to be quite out of the world; but finding that Evan took the hint in his usual prosy manner, was reduced to call after him, and finally to run and catch him.