Part 23 (1/2)

Mrs. Martin loathed gipsies.

”None of your sauce,” she said in an angry voice. ”This is no place for the like of you; get out at once or I'll let Miss Hester Thornton know.”

”Oh, nursey, nursey, you'll kill me,” exclaimed Annie in a voice choked with laughter. ”Do you mean to say you don't know me?”

”My sakes alive, Miss Annie Forest!” exclaimed the old woman. ”Who'd have thought you'd have been up to this folly? What are you doing, masquerading like them hateful gipsies? It's bad enough to have wings and clouds about; but gipsies--'tain't respectable; my word, no.”

”This gipsy is eminently respectable,” said Annie, with a sort of bitter emphasis. ”Here, nursey, take my hand, and let me lead you up the ball-room. I have many strange characters to introduce you to. I see plainly that you won't recognise them without my kind a.s.sistance. Here, come along, be quick.”

”My head is getting _moithered_, and that's the only word,” said nurse Martin. ”Dear, dear, what _are_ the young coming to? And sakes alive, what in the world are those?”

The creatures thus apostrophised by the almost frightened nurse Martin, were a troop of fairies and brownies, who now rushed into the ball-room from every direction. The band struck up a merry waltz, and the fairies and brownies began to dance with vigour.

”Its past belief,” said Mrs. Martin ”and did you make all them wings, Miss Annie?”

”Oh, dear, no,” replied Annie; ”they were made by the mothers of the fairies--at least, I presume so. Now come into the supper-room and let me get you a comfortable seat.”

Mrs. Martin was glad enough to comply. She said the slippery floor of the ball-room, and the uncanny creatures that were all round her, made her feel as if the top of her head would come off. She uttered a little shriek of terror as Jane Macalister, dressed as Minerva, glided fiercely by, and was glad to seat herself in a safe corner behind one of the long supper tables. Annie desired a servant to give her all the refreshment she required, and then ran off to attend to the other guests.

Fast and furious rose the fun. During the whole of the present century the old ball-room at the Towers had not reflected so gay and animated a scene. Grim ancestors of the house of Lorrimer looked down from their tarnished frames at the last Lorrimers as they danced away their precious time in this frivolous and yet enchanting manner. The grown people, who sat in the gallery and on benches near the walls, talked in whispers to one another about the lovely scene. The Lorrimers were popular in the county, and although rumours of coming trouble were rife about them, yet their friends and well-wishers augured happy results from this present gaiety.

But why was not the Squire present, and why was Mrs. Lorrimer absent?

Molly, who made the gentlest of shepherdesses, came up as these remarks pa.s.sed the good people's lips. She stopped to speak to an old friend of her mother's.

”I'm so glad you were able to come,” she said; ”and how sweet your children look.”

”It was very kind of you to ask us, my dear,” responded this lady, ”and the sight is a charming one--quite charming; but I am sorry to miss your mother.”

”Mother is in London at present; she is away on special business. She is ever so sorry to be absent to-night.”

”And the Squire, is he quite well?”

”Yes, thank you. He is in London with mother.”

At this moment a brownie with a hot face and looking rather uncomfortable in his brown-velvet tights, accompanied by the most spiritual-looking fairy it was possible to see, revolved slowly round in the mazes of the waltz.

The brownie's honest face was raised to Molly's; his brown eyes were full of a question; the fairy by his side had a far-away look. They both floated away.

”Oh, what a charming little pair,” said Mrs. Fortescue, Molly's friend.

”Do you know who they are, Miss Lorrimer?”

”That poor, hot brownie is my brother, Boris,” exclaimed Molly; ”and that little girl is Nell, my sister.”

The lady sat down again; and, Molly's partner coming up to claim her, she joined in the dance, and forgot the question in Boris's eyes.

There was a commotion near the entrance door. Hester was seen to move hastily forward. There was a call for Nan, who, accompanied by her partner, Little Boy Blue, rushed quickly across the room, and the next moment a tall, aristocratic-looking man was seen moving up the ball-room with Hester's hand on his arm. Sir John Thornton had kept his word. He had returned in time if not for the whole of Nan's birthday, at least to see it out.

The matrons who sat about the room remarked on his appearance, and said that they had never seen him look better, younger, or more cheerful.