at Christmas, and though she had at present no definite ambition to push
herself into the Manor Class, she was anxious that Ansdore should have
every pomp and that things should be "done proper." The mere solid
comfort of prosperity was not enough for her--she wanted the glitter and
glamour of it as well, she wanted her neighbours not only to realize it
but to exclaim about it.

Thus inspired she asked Prickett, Vine, Furnese and other yeomen and
tenants of the Marsh to send their hands, men and maids, to Ansdore, for
dancing and supper on New Year's Eve. She found this celebration even
more thrilling than the earlier one. Somehow these humbler preparations
filled more of her time and thought than when she had prepared to
entertain her peers. She would not wear her low dress, of course, but
she would have her pink one "done up"--a fall of lace and some beads
sewn on, for she must look her best. She saw herself opening the ball
with Dick Socknersh, her hand in his, his clumsy arm round her waist....
Of course old Stuppeny was technically the head man at Ansdore, but he
was too old to dance--she would see he had plenty to eat and drink
instead--she would take the floor with Dick Socknersh, and all eyes
would be fixed upon her.

They certainly were, except when they dropped for a wink at a neighbour.
Joanna waltzing with Socknersh to the trills of Mr. Elphick, the Brodnyx
schoolmaster, seated at the tinkling, ancient Collard, Joanna in her
pink gown, close fitting to her waist and then abnormally bunchy, with
her hair piled high and twisted with a strand of ribbon, with her face
flushed, her lips parted and her eyes bright, was a sight from which no
man and few women could turn their eyes. Her vitality and happiness
seemed to shine from her skin, almost to light up the dark and heavy
figure of Socknersh in his Sunday blacks, as he staggered and stumbled,