Sylvia was in pink and silver, and Phyllis to blue and silver. The same silver ribbon for both of them; it was cheaper to buy a quantity. I had to admit that they looked very pretty in their way, which I deluded myself into thinking was an insipid one. Their maid, whom we all shared, had dressed their hair very charmingly, and each wore a curl over her shoulder. No one would have guessed that the curl had been produced by being put into rags the previous night; rather uncomfortable and grotesque, but Aunt Clarissa was against the curling tongs. I had brushed my own straight hair and rolled it into a chignon, which I wore high on my head.

“Aging!” commented Phyllis happily.

“At least,” I said, “there shouldn’t be three fairy dolls from the top of the Christmas tree.”

“Jealousy!” whispered Sylvia.

“No,” I retorted. “Fair comment.”

I certainly did not look my best. I scorned the rouge with which my cousins had touched their cheeks. I would go to the ball plain and ungilded just to show that I didn’t care.

“She looks like someone’s governess,” said Sylvia to Phyllis.

“Except, of course, that governesses don’t go to balls.”

“Phyllis! Sylvia!” I said sharply. “Your manners are not half as pretty as your dresses.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m acting like a governess, since I look so like one.”

They would have been surprised if they could have known that there was a tight feeling in my throat and a burning sensation in my eyes. I could have thrown myself on the bed and wept. I felt so wretched, and my wretchedness was like an echo from the past when my father had shown so clearly that he did not care about me and Aunt Clarissa had wondered how she was going to find me a husband.

The carriage was at the door and we set out. I watched Aunt Clarissa—her complacent eyes resting on her daughters. She thought they looked enchanting.

Near Lady Mellingfort’s house in Park Lane we were held up in the stream of carriages which were taking guests to her ball. This was one of the most grand balls of the season, and Aunt Clarissa’s emotions were divided; she was delighted to be a guest and at the same time wondered how she was going to vie with such splendor when her turn came to be the hostess.

People looked in at us—some ragged with gaunt faces. I shivered. I always disliked contrasts. I wondered whether they hated us sitting there not only well fed but in our glittering garments—the cost of our gowns would have fed a family for weeks.

I was glad when we moved on and arrived at the house.

I had a vision of red carpet, powdered footmen and palms in white pots, the hum of excited voices, the anxious eyes of aspiring mammas.

Then we were mounting the wide staircases to be received by Lady Mellingfort, who in white satin, diamonds and feathers was waiting for us.

It was the nightmare I had imagined it to be. Mothers greeting each other, complimenting each other on their charming daughters, lynx-eyed for a sign of superior beauty and to catch the eye of the most enticing prey.

I caused no qualms; I could read their thoughts as I was introduced.

“Sir Edward Delvaney’s daughter! Not exactly a beauty! And since her father married a young woman … no fortune. A real outsider.”

I didn’t belong here. How I longed for the time when we should be saying our farewells and grateful thanks to our hostess. How much more enticing did my own room seem.

It was as I feared. I was introduced to one or two men— the more aging and unattractive—who eyed me speculatively. I presumed my diminished fortune was of some interest to them. I danced awkwardly and chatted for a while, and as I made no effort at trivial conversation they drifted away.

I saw Phyllis and Sylvia dancing; and I was sorry that they saw me too. They threw me pitying smiles which didn’t quite hide their complacence.

I don’t care what they say, I promised myself, I shall never come to another of then- silly balls.

Then he was coming towards me. I knew that several of the rapacious mammas were watching him, but he was unaware of it. If not the most handsome, he was surely the most distinguished man in the ballroom.

“Harriet!” he said in a voice which was heard by those nearby and made heads turn and eyebrows raise themselves. “I’ve been hunting for you for the last half-hour!”

“Bevil!” I cried, and all my joy and pleasure was in my voice for the watchers to detect.

He sat down beside me. “I should have been here earlier, but I was detained in the House.”

“I had no idea that you were coming.”

“I wasn’t sure whether I should manage it. But I beard from Tony Mellingfort that your aunt and her protegees were invited so I was determined to get here sometime. Are you pleased to see me? What a noise!”

I was too happy to speak in those first moments. Then I said rather quietly: “I suppose it’s what we must expect … the music and the chatter.”

“Actually I avoid such affairs whenever possible.”

“I shall too, but ill! be easier for you than for me. Is there any news of Gwennan?”

“None,” he said. “I have to apologize, don’t I? I was angry, and I thought it might have been avoided if you had told us about the affair; but of course I understand that she took you into her confidence, and you’re the last one who would betray that.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“You met this fellow, didn’t you? Oh God, what a noise! Shall we try and find a quieter spot?”

He took my hand and pulled my arm through his; several eyes followed us as we found our way to an alcove slightly secluded by palms.

“That’s better.”

“Far from the madding crowd,” I murmured, my spirits beginning to rise.

“But not far enough. This actor, what was he like?”

“I only saw hint on the stage and quite briefly behind the scenes.”

“But how did he strike you, Harriet?”

“It’s hard to say. He was so much an actor that he always seemed to be playing a part—offstage as well as on.”

“I don’t know what will become of her.”

“She’s very resourceful.”

“She hasn’t written to you and asked you not to tell us?” He smiled. “But then if she had, you wouldn’t tell, would you?”

“No. But I can tell you this: She hasn’t written to me.”

“I wonder whether that’s a good or bad sign.”

“It could be either.”

“You don’t deceive me, Harriet. If Gwennan had anything to boast about she would have written to you. Didn’t she always?”

“Yes. But she might be afraid you would get on to her trail and try to bring her back.”

“We couldn’t… if she were married. If you do hear, will you tell me … providing, of course, you aren’t bound to secrecy?”

“Of course I will, Bevil.”

“Well, that’s that. Now tell me about yourself. You’re staying at your aunt’s, I gathered, when I called on your stepmother the other day.”

“Yes, and I shall be glad when all this is over! I hate tbflle affairs.”

“So do I.”

“You were under no compulsion to come.”

“Wrong again, Harriet. I was under the great compulsion of wanting to see you. You know that you are the most intelligent and amusing young lady of my acquaintance, don’t you?”

“I know that you have the art of paying compliments.”

He leaned towards me and kissed my nose. I thought: There was never happiness such as this. Why could I have thought I didn’t want to come to Lady Mellingfort’s ball?

We talked of Menfreya, and as I sat with Bevil in that alcove, I could hear the swish of the waves and see the machicolated walls and the old clock in the tower; I could see myself riding with Bevil through the woods and lanes. I felt intoxicated by happiness.

Later when we went in to supper together, to my dismay we were joined by my Aunt Clarissa and Sylvia, whom I was malicious enough to note was without an escort.

“Mr. Menfrey! How delighted I am. My daughter Sylvia.”

I felt a twinge of fear as he looked at her in that warm, caressing way he and his father looked at all women.

Sylvia said: “I’m delighted too, Mr. Menfrey. I’ve heard so much about you-“

“Then there is delight all round. Harriet could talk of nothing else but her charming cousins all the evening!”

I caught my breath, but he was smiling at me. He had summed up the situation.

Lady Mellingfort had thought it would be amusing for her guests to help themselves at the buffet supper; and Bevil suggested that he should bring our supper to the table.

“Take Sylvia along with you. She will help you. Go along. Sylvia my dear.”

I watched them go off together and I hated my aunt She was hating me too.

“Really,” she said under her breath. “People are talking!”

“You’d hardly expect otherwise. This is not a monastic order where silence is expected.”

“Harriet! Listen to me.”

“I am listening, Aunt.”

“Your conduct has been disgraceful!”

“In what way?”

“Secreting yourself away with that man.”

“Secreting ourselves? Oh, Aunt, there was nothing secretive. We could be seen quite distinctly through the palms . .. and we were.”

“That’s what I mean. It simply is not done. You are under my care and I am most displeased. You monopolized Mr. Menfrey. Did it not occur to you that other people might have wanted to speak to him?”

“He has a very small fortune, Aunt. Of course, there’s the title which hell have one day, I suppose … but a country estate ... and a comparatively small one. Not to be compared with earls and barons or even the Honorable Mr. Crellan.”