"Your honour's pardon,
I'd rather have my wounds to heal again,
Than hear say how I got them."--Coriolanus.
"Yes, I go the week after next."
"So soon? I thought you were to stay for our ball."
"Till this time next year! No, no, I can't quite do that, thank you."
"This very winter."
"Oh, no--no such thing! Why, half the beauty and fashion of the
neighbourhood is not come into winter quarters yet. Besides, the very
essence of a military ball is that it should be a parting--the brightest
and the last. Good morning."
And Meg's head, nothing loth, was turned away from the wide view of
the broad vale of the Avon, with the Avoncester Cathedral towers in the
midst, and the moors rising beyond in purple distance. The two young
lieutenants could only wave their farewells, as Bessie cantered merrily
over the soft smooth turf of the racecourse, in company with Lord Keith,
the Colonel, and Conrade.
"Do you not like dancing?" inquired Lord Keith, when the canter was
over, and they were splashing through a lane with high hedges.
"I'm not so unnatural," returned Bessie, with a merry smile, "but it
would never do to let the Highlanders give one now. Alick has been
telling me that the expense would fall seriously on a good many of
them."
"True," said Colonel Keith, "too many fetes come to be a heavy tax."
"That is more consideration than is common in so young a lad," added
Lord Keith.
"Yes, but dear Alick is so full of consideration," said the sister,
eagerly. "He does not get half the credit for it that he deserves,
because, you know, he is so quiet and reserved, and has that unlucky
ironical way with him that people don't like; especially rattlepates
like those," pointing with her whip in the direction of the two young
officers.
"It is a pity," said the Colonel, "it lessens his influence. And it is
strange I never perceived it before his return to England."
"Oh! there's much owing to the habitual languor of that long illness.
That satirical mumble is the only trouble he will take to lift up his
testimony, except when a thing is most decidedly his duty, and then he
does it as England expects."
"And he considered it his duty to make you decline this ball?" said Lord
Keith.
"Oh, not his more than mine," said Bessie. "I don't forget that I am the
Colonel's daughter."
No more was said on that occasion, but three days after cards were going
about the county with invitations from Lord Keith to an evening party,
with "Dancing." Lord Keith averred, with the full concurrence of
his brother, that he owed many civilities to the ladies of the
neighbourhood, and it was a good time to return them when he could
gratify the young kinswoman who had showed such generous forbearance
about the regimental ball. It was no unfavourable moment either, when he
had his brother to help him, for the ordering of balls had been so much
a part of Colin's staff duties, that it came quite naturally to him,
especially with Coombe within reach to assist. There was some question
whether the place should be the public rooms or Gowanbrae, but Bessie's
vote decided on the latter, in consideration of the Colonel's chest.
She was rather shocked, while very grateful, at the consequences of the
little conversation on the hill top, but she threw herself into all the
counsels with bright, ardent pleasure, though carefully refraining from
any presumption that she was queen of the evening.