Nell, of Shorne Mills Part 33

"Very good people," she said; "though not, of course, the creme de la creme. I am included in the invitation, but I shall not accept. The scene would but recall others of a more brilliant description in which I once moved--er--not the least of the glittering throng. No, Eleanor, you will not need a chaperon. You have Drake, who, I trust, will enjoy himself in what may be novel circ.u.mstances," she added, with affable patronage.

"You will not need a new dress, Eleanor--d.i.c.k tells me that he must have a new suit."

"Oh, no; I am all right!" said Nell cheerfully.

She found that the old frock could, with a little alteration, be utilized, and for several evenings Drake sat and watched her as she lengthened the skirt and bestowed new lace and ribbons upon the thing, and, as he smoked, imagined how she would look on the night of the dance. He knew that not one of the other women, let them be arrayed in all the glory of the Queen of Sheba herself, would outshine his star.

CHAPTER XV.

On the night of the fifth Nell sang softly to herself as she stood before the gla.s.s putting the last touches to her, toilet. She was br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with happiness, and as she looked at the radiant reflection she wondered whether her lover would be satisfied. It is the question which every woman who loves asks herself. It is for the man of her heart that she lives and has her being; it is that she may find favor in his sight that she brushes the hair he has kissed; it is with the hope that his eye may be caught, his fancy pleased, that she puts the flower at her bosom or winds the filmy lace around her neck. And it was of Drake--Drake--Drake--she thought and dreamed as she turned from the gla.s.s and went down the stairs.

She had heard the wheels of the fly he had procured from Shallop, and she found him in the little hall waiting for her.

He looked up at the lovely vision with startled admiration, for hitherto he had only seen her in week-a-day attire; and this slight, graceful form, clad in soft white, seemed so pure, so virginal and ethereal, that, not for the first time, his joy in her loveliness was tempered with awe.

"Nell!" was all he could say, and he stretched out his arms, then let them fall. "I should crush you or break you," he said, half seriously.

"Is that the dress I saw you making up--that! It looked like----"

"A rag," she finished for him, her eyes shining down upon him with a woman's grat.i.tude for his admiration. "Will it do? Do I look--pa.s.sable?"

"No," he said; "no one could pa.s.s you! Nell, my angel--yes, you are like an angel to-night!" he broke off, in lower tones. "You--you frighten me, dearest. I dread to see you spread your wings and fly away from me."

She laughed shyly and shook her head.

"And--and--how different you look!" she said; for it was the first time she had seen Drake in the costume which we share with the waiter; and her pride in him--in his tall figure and square shoulders--glowed in her eyes. If he had been lame and halt she would have still loved him; but--well, there is no woman who is not proud of her sweetheart's good looks. Sometimes she is prouder of them than of her own.

"Let me put this wrap around you," he said; and as he did so she raised her head with a blush and an invitation in her eyes, and he kissed her on the lips. "See here, dearest," he said, "your first dance! And as many as you will give me afterward. Did I ever mention that I was jealous? Nell, I inform you of the gruesome fact now; and that I shall endure agonies every time I see you dancing with another man."

"Perhaps you will be spared that pain," she said. "I may be a wallflower, waiting for you to take pity on me."

"Yes, I should think that very probable," he retorted ironically. "Oh, Nell, how I love you, how proud----"

d.i.c.k came out of the dining room at that moment, and at sight of Nell fell back against the wall in an a.s.sumed swoon.

"Is it--can it be--the simple little fishergirl of Shorne Mills? My aunt, Nell, you do look a swell! Got 'em all on, Drake, hasn't she?

Miss Eleanor Lorton as Cinderella! Kiss your brother, Nell!"

He made a pretended rush at her with extended arms, and Nell shrieked apprehensively:

"Keep him off, Drake! He'll crush my dress! d.i.c.k--d.i.c.k, you dare!"

d.i.c.k winked at Drake.

"You are requested not to touch the figure. Drake, have you observed and noticed this warning? But so it is in this world! One man may kiss this waxwork, while another isn't permitted to lay a finger on it. Now, are we going to the Maltbys' dance, or have you decided to remain here and spoon? And hasn't any one a word of approval for this figure? Between you and me, Drake, I rather fancy myself to-night. I do hope I shan't break any young thing's heart, for I'm not--I really am not--a marrying man. Seen too much of the preliminary business with other people, you know."

They got into the fly, laughing, and Drake, as they drove along, compared this departure for a simple country dance with his past experiences. How seldom had he gone to a big London crush without wishing that he could stay at home and smoke or read!

"Remember," he whispered to Nell, as they alighted at the Grange, "your first dance and as many as you can give me!"

One or two other carriages set down at the same time, and they entered the hall, a portion of a small crowd, so that Lady Maltby, a buxom, smiling lady of the good old type of the country baronet's wife, had only time to murmur a few words; and Drake pa.s.sed on with Nell on his arm.

As they went up the room, a dance started, and he drew Nell aside, and standing by her, looked round curiously and a trifle apprehensively. But there was no person whom he knew, and Sir William, who came up to them, had even got Drake's name wrongly.

"Glad to see you, Miss Lorton. Dear, dear! how the young ones do grow!

Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Verney Blake, and to congratulate you. I think I've met a relative of yours--an uncle, I fancy----"

Drake's face grew expressionless in an instant.

--"Sir Richard--or--was it Sir Joseph--Blake? He took the first for shorthorns in seventy-eight."

Drake drew a sigh of relief.

"No relation of mine, Sir William, I regret," he said.

"No? Same name, too. Funny! But there are a good many Blakes. So you're going to run off with the belle of Shorne Mills, eh? Lucky fellow!"

With a chuckle he ambled off to his wife, to be sent to some one else, and Drake bent to Nell.

"Come!" was all he said, and he put his arm round her. The floor was good, the band from the garrison town knew its business, and Nell----Was he surprised that she should dance so well? Was not every ordinary movement of hers graceful? But the fact that she could dance like an angel, as he put it to himself, did not make his love for her any the less or his pride in her diminish, be certain. He himself had been the best dancer in his regiment, and this, his first waltz with the girl he adored, sent the blood spinning through his veins.

"Aren't we in step rather--nicely?" she whispered, trying to speak casually, but failing utterly; for the joy that throbbed in her heart made it impossible for her to keep her voice steady. "Oh, Drake, I--I was afraid that I might not be able to dance, it is so long--ever so long--since----Why, this is my first real ball, and I am dancing with you! And how well you waltz! But you have danced so often--this is not your first ball!"

He glanced at her with a pang of uneasiness, but her eyes shone up at him innocent of any other meaning than the simplest one, innocent of any doubt of him, any question of his past.

"He would be a rank duffer who couldn't dance with you, Nell," he said.

Her hand tightened on his with the faintest pressure, and she closed her eyes with a happy sigh.

"If it could only go on forever!" was her thought; and she prayed that no other man might want her to dance, for a long time.

She would have liked to sit out the dances she could not have with Drake, to sit and watch him. And she would not be jealous. Why should she be? Was he not her very own, her sweetheart, the man who loved her?

The waltz came to an end all too soon, and as Drake led her to a seat, young Maltby approached her with two young fellows. She was the prettiest girl in the room, though she was the simplest dressed, and the men were anxious to secure her.

Drake hastily scribbled his initials on several lines of her program, then had to resign her to her next partner, and, in discharge of his duty, seek a partner for himself.

Lady Maltby introduced him to a daughter of a local squire, a fresh young girl, with all a country girl's frankness.

"What a pretty girl that was with whom you were dancing!" she said, as they started. "She is really lovely!"

"And yet they say that women never admire each other," he remarked.

"Do you mean that?" she asked, looking up at him with her frank, blue eyes. "What nonsense! I love to see a pretty woman; and I quite looked forward to coming here to-night, because we are to have a famous London beauty."