“You can’t know me very well, or you’d know I never give up. But in any case, I have the whole evening before me. First, let me tell you that you are enchanting. Your dress is wonderful.”

“You like it?” I smiled, thinking of the shaking and hanging out in the sunshine to take off the smell of damp; and the lavender sachets which Gwennan had produced to put in the folds.

“I’ve seen it before.”

“Where?” I asked.

“I’m trying to remember.”

I was entranced. I heard myself laughing at his conversation—light, frothy, frivolous conversation; and yet, there seemed to be depth in it. He was interested in me; he had seen me in my alcove, and as soon as possible he had left the partner with whom he had been dancing and had come to me. Who would have believed that possible?

There I sat, gay as anyone at the ball, returning his quips, finding that I too had a gift of repartee that might be mistaken for wit. He was certainly not bored, but he was puzzled. He did not guess who I was. Perhaps had he known I was to be at the ball he might have done so; but he had always thought of me as a child, and still did, and it would not occur to him that I could possibly be there; he had been with Gwennan in her simple party dress when they arrived and had heard that she and I were to sit in the gallery to watch; he knew nothing about the discovery of the dresses. No, it would not occur to him that it could possibly be young Harriet with whom he was enjoying such an intriguing interlude.

The cotillion was over; they were playing a waltz.

“Shall we dance?” he said.

I was surprised at myself. If I had not been intoxicated by the evening, by the presence of Bevil, by my new personality, in spite of having danced with Gwennan, I should have murmured that I couldn’t dance. But I was bemused; I allowed myself to be led onto the floor; I may have limped but I was unaware of it; my voluminous skirts would perhaps hide my infirmity; at least, so it seemed to me. And there I was, dancing with Bevil. I do not mean that I danced well or expertly. Bevil was no born dancer anyway, but I danced, and the floor was so crowded that one’s steps did not matter—and I was so happy that I felt life was wonderful and everything had changed for me.

Before the dance was over, Bevil suggested that we go to the supper room, and there he seated me at a table while he went to forage for food. He came back with a tray and glasses of champagne. It was the first time I had drunk champagne, and it made me more dizzily happy than ever. I caught a glimpse of Gwennan with Harry Leveret, but they were so absorbed in each other that I don’t think they saw me.

After supper we went into the garden. Bevil took my hand and we walked across the moonlit lawn to a seat under one of the trees from which we watched the dancers filtering on to the lawn; through the open French windows came the strains of music.

“I know,” cried Bevil suddenly. “The dress! I know where I’ve seen it before.”

“Please tell me.”

“At Menfreya.”

“Oh,” I said blankly, remembering that Gwennan had said he and she had found the trunk years ago. But it was surprising that Bevil should remember a dress.

“Why,” he cried, “it’s exactly so. The hair filet … the gown. It might be you, but she is not masked, of course.”

“Who?”

“It’s a portrait at Menfreya. Ill show it to you … soon. When shall it be? You must come to Menfreya and let me show it to you. Will you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I’m relieved. I had a terrible fear that you were going to disappear after tonight and I shouldn’t see you again. It’s a promise, is it?”

“Yes. A promise.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow,” I said. “Tomorrow I will call on you and ask to be shown the portrait”

He pressed my hand. “I know you’re the kind to keep a promise.”

‘Tell me about the portrait”

“It’s an ancestress of mine. A long-ago Lady Menfrey. My great-great-great-grandmother—or there may be a few more greats. But your dress is an absolute replica of the one she’s wearing. It’s as though you’ve stepped down from the canvas.”

“I should so enjoy seeing it.”

“Tomorrow,” be said. “It’s a promise.”

I wanted to catch at time and prevent its moving, but even now people were making their way to the ballroom for the dance which would precede the unmasking at midnight. I had to get away before that. I did not want to stand beside Bevil, to take off my mask and see the surprise in his face, to hear him say “Harriet!” in shocked surprise. Moreover, what if my father saw me!

For tonight I wanted to be the attractive mystery behind the mask.

We were caught up in the crowd going into the ballroom. Lady Menfrey was near us; she spoke to Bevil, and as he turned to her I seized my opportunity. I slipped into a passage, knowing the house as few of the others did, and reaching (he main staircase hurried up it to the gallery. It was then twenty minutes to twelve.

Later, from the gallery, I saw him enter the ballroom; he was looking about him searchingly, eagerly. Looking for me!

Gwennan came running into the room at five minutes to twelve. I had thought she would be caught down there, but it was like her to leave it until the last moment.

She was flushed and radiant.

“What a wonderful, wonderful ball!” she cried. “It’s the best ball I’ve ever attended.”

I laughed at her and reminded her that it was the only one so it bad to be the best.

Then we were laughing together. I was different that night. I had had my adventure, and it was no less wonderful than Gwennan’s.

I slept very little that night but lay awake, going over everything that had happened at the ball. I got up once during the night, lighted my candle and took the dress from my cupboard, held it against me and looked at my reflection in the mirror. The dress did do something to me. Even in the middle of the night I looked different … fey … even attractive. Yes, I was sure of it, the sort of person people would look at twice. I wasn’t beautiful; even the candlelight could not fool me as much as that, but there was a certain medieval charm about my face which needed the muted color of the dress, the period style of it, to bring it out.

It was dawn before I slept at all, and then only for an hour or so. The next morning the house was in that after-the-ball chaos, which I knew so well; everyone was tired and touchy, except myself. I was exalted.

In the afternoon I walked to Menfreya, where I knew Bevil would be waiting for me—only, of course, he wouldn’t know he was expecting me. What a shock, I thought, to find instead of the mysterious woman this little-more-than-a-schoolgirl in a gray merino dress, sedate cape, untidy hair unprotected by a glittering filet. If only I could have worn the dress, how different I should have felt.

The house was quiet but Bevil was there, and I went straight in to the library unannounced.

“Why . , . it’s Harriet,” he said. Bevil’s social manners were perfect. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it.

“You were expecting someone, I see,” I said. “Well, I’m sorry it’s only Harriet”

“I happen to be delighted.” His face creased up into a smile I knew and loved.

“But you were expecting some charming woman and wondering how she would look in modern clothes. You were picturing her perhaps in a mulberry-velvet riding habit with a black riding hat, her face delicately veiled to protect hex dazzling complexion.”

“Who is this phantom of delight and how do you come to know so much of what I’m hoping for?”

“Because you were with her last night at the ball. Prepare for a shock, Bevil. Your partner last night wasn’t all that you thought she was. I’m going to confess right away. I was disguised last night… unrecognizably.”

“So you say! Do you think I wouldn’t recognize you anywhere?”

“You knew!”

He took me by the shoulders and laughed at me. Then he leaned forward and kissed me as he had in the boat.

“So you knew all the time!”

“My dear Harriet, why should you know me and I not know you? My powers of perception are as well developed as yours.”

“But I saw you arrive and I … should know you anywhere.”

“And I, too. Now look, what was the game last night? Gwennan was there too. It was a plot between you two girls. Where did you find the dresses?”

“Here in Menfreya.”

“I guessed it”

“Promise you won’t tell. Gwennan would be furious.”

“And I’m terrified of her fury, naturally.”

“Well, you see, we wanted to go to the ball, and we found these dresses in a trunk, and so …”

“Two little Cinderellas came to the ball, not forgetting to disappear before midnight, leaving two desolate Prince Charmings wondering what had become of them. Well, Harriet, I must thank you for an enjoyable evening. Your secret is safe with me. I said I would show you something if you came here this afternoon, didn’t I? Well, come on. Let’s.

I followed him into the great hall, and we went up the staircase towards the wing protected by the buttress in which we had found the dresses.

“Not scared of ghosts, Harriet?” he asked over his shoulder. “This wing isn’t used much. It’s said to be the haunted one. There has to be a ghost in all houses like this. You knew that, didn’t you? Well, this is it If you’re scared, give me your hand.”

“I’m not,” I said.

“I always knew it wouldn’t be easy to scare you.” He exclaimed in disgust: “It’s musty in here. We’ve always intended to open it up, but somehow we never get round to it. The servants wouldn’t like it They won’t come here even in daytime.”