Sir Everard gave it up and went in search of Miss Hunsden, and was
accepted by that young lady for a redowa.

"I thought you would have asked me ages ago," said Harrie, with
delicious frankness. "I saw you were a good dancer, and that is more
than I can say for any other gentleman present, except Lord Ernest.
Ah, Lord Ernest can waltz! It is the height of ball-room bliss to be
his partner. But you stayed away to quarrel with Lady Louise, I
suppose?"

"I have not been quarreling with Lady Louise," replied, Sir Everard,
feeling guiltily conscious all the same.

"No? It looked like it, then. She snubs you in the most merciless
manner, and you--oh, what a penitent face you wore the last time you
approached her! I thought she was a great deal too uplifted for
flirting, but what do you call that with George Grosvenor?"

"George Grosvenor is a very old friend. Here is our redowa, Miss
Hunsden. Never mind Lady Louise."

His arm encircled her waist, and away they flew. Sir Everard could
dance as well as Lord Ernest, and quite as many admiring eyes followed
him and the bright little belle of the ball. Mr. Grosvenor pulled his
tawny mustache with inward delight.

"Handsome couple, eh, Carteret?" he said to his host; "it is an evident
case of spoons there. Well, the boy is only two-and-twenty, and at
that age we all lost our heads easily."