A scream of terror and pain issued from behind it, with a crash of pottery.

Lucy wheeled round at the sound, and there was her aunt, flattened against the flower-frame.

Lucy stood transfixed.

But soon her look of surprise gave way to a frown; ay! and a somber one.

CHAPTER XVI.

THAT ready-minded lady extricated herself from the pots, and wriggled out of the moral situation.  “I was a listener, dear! an unwilling listener; but now I do not regret it.  How nobly you behaved!” and with this she came at her with open arms, crying, “My own dear niece.”

Her own dear niece recoiled with a shiver, and put up both her hands as a shield.

“Oh, don’t touch me, please.  I never heard of a lady listening!!!!”

She then turned her back on her aunt in a somewhat uncourtier-like manner, and darted out of the place, every fiber of her frame strung up tight with excitement.  She felt she was not the calm, dispassionate being of yesterday, and hurried to her own room and locked herself in.

Mrs. Bazalgette remained behind in a state of bitter mortification, and breathing fury on her small scale.  But what could she do?  David would be out of her reach in a few minutes, and Lucy was scarce vulnerable.

In the absence of any definite spite, she thought she could not go wrong in thwarting whatever Lucy wished, and her wish had been that David should go.  Besides, if she kept him in the house, who knows, she might pique him with Lucy, and even yet turn him her way; so she lay in wait for him in the hall.  He soon appeared with his bag in his hand.  She inquired, with great simplicity, where he was going.  He told her he was going away.  She remonstrated, first tenderly, then almost angrily.  “We all counted on you to play the violin.  We can’t dance to the piano alone.”

“I am very sorry, but I have got my orders.”  Then this subtle lady said, carelessly, “Lucy will be au desespoir. She will get no dancing.  She said to me just now, ’Aunt, do try and persuade Mr. Dodd to stay over the ball.  We shall miss him so.’”

“When did she say that?”

“Just this minute.  Standing at the door there.”

“Very well; then I’ll stay over the ball.”  And without a word more he carried his bag and violin-case up to his room again.  Oh, how La Bazalgette hated him!  She now resigned all hope of fighting with him, and contented herself with the pleasure of watching him and Lucy together.  One would be wretched, and the other must be uncomfortable.

Lucy did not come down to dinner; she was lying down with headache.  She even sent a message to Mrs. Bazalgette to know whether she could be dispensed with at the ball.  Answer, “Impossible!” At half-past eight she got up, put on her costume, took it off again, and dressed in white watered silk.  Her assumption of a character was confined to wearing a little crown rising to a peak in front.  Many of the guests had arrived when she glided into the room looking every inch a queen.  David was dazzled at her, and awestruck at her beauty and mien, and at his own presumption.