CHAPTER XXXII

A GREAT BALL

A certain great ball, given yearly at Dunholm Castle, was one of the most notable social features of the county.  It took place when the house was full of its most interestingly distinguished guests, and, though other balls might be given at other times, this one was marked by a degree of greater state.  On several occasions the chief guests had been great personages indeed, and to be bidden to meet them implied a selection flattering in itself.  One’s invitation must convey by inference that one was either brilliant, beautiful, or admirable, if not important.

Nigel Anstruthers had never appeared at what the uninvited were wont, with derisive smiles, to call The Great Panjandrum Function—­which was an ironic designation not employed by such persons as received cards bidding them to the festivity.  Stornham Court was not popular in the county; no one had yearned for the society of the Dowager Lady Anstruthers, even in her youth; and a not too well-favoured young man with an ill-favoured temper, noticeably on the lookout for grievances, is not an addition to one’s circle.  At nineteen Nigel had discovered the older Lord Mount Dunstan and his son Tenham to be congenial acquaintances, and had been so often absent from home that his neighbours would have found social intercourse with him difficult, even if desirable.  Accordingly, when the county paper recorded the splendours of The Great Panjandrum Function—­which it by no means mentioned by that name—­the list of “Among those present” had not so far contained the name of Sir Nigel Anstruthers.

So, on a morning a few days after his return, the master of Stornham turned over a card of invitation and read it several times before speaking.

“I suppose you know what this means,” he said at last to Rosalie, who was alone with him.

“It means that we are invited to Dunholm Castle for the ball, doesn’t it?”

Her husband tossed the card aside on the table.

“It means that Betty will be invited to every house where there is a son who must be disposed of profitably.

“She is invited because she is beautiful and clever.  She would be invited if she had no money at all,” said Rosy daringly.  She was actually growing daring, she thought sometimes.  It would not have been possible to say anything like this a few months ago.

“Don’t make silly mistakes,” said Nigel.  “There are a good many handsome girls who receive comparatively little attention.  But the hounds of war are let loose, when one of your swollen American fortunes appears.  The obviousness of it ‘virtuously’ makes me sick.  It’s as vulgar—­as New York.”

What befel next brought to Sir Nigel a shock of curious enlightenment, but no one was more amazed than Rosy herself.  She felt, when she heard her own voice, as if she must be rather mad.