Mrs. Allen was so long in dressing that they did not enter the
ballroom till late. The season was full, the room crowded, and the
two ladies squeezed in as well as they could. As for Mr. Allen,
he repaired directly to the card-room, and left them to enjoy a
mob by themselves. With more care for the safety of her new gown
than for the comfort of her protegee, Mrs. Allen made her way
through the throng of men by the door, as swiftly as the necessary
caution would allow; Catherine, however, kept close at her side,
and linked her arm too firmly within her friend's to be torn asunder
by any common effort of a struggling assembly. But to her utter
amazement she found that to proceed along the room was by no means
the way to disengage themselves from the crowd; it seemed rather to
increase as they went on, whereas she had imagined that when once
fairly within the door, they should easily find seats and be able
to watch the dances with perfect convenience. But this was far
from being the case, and though by unwearied diligence they gained
even the top of the room, their situation was just the same; they
saw nothing of the dancers but the high feathers of some of the
ladies. Still they moved on -- something better was yet in view;
and by a continued exertion of strength and ingenuity they found
themselves at last in the passage behind the highest bench. Here
there was something less of crowd than below; and hence Miss Morland
had a comprehensive view of all the company beneath her, and of all
the dangers of her late passage through them. It was a splendid
sight, and she began, for the first time that evening, to feel herself
at a ball: she longed to dance, but she had not an acquaintance
in the room. Mrs. Allen did all that she could do in such a case
by saying very placidly, every now and then, "I wish you could
dance, my dear -- I wish you could get a partner." For some time