"That doesn't make it any better for not asking you."

"Oh, stop it, Kerensa. It won't ever be the same, I tell you. Nothing will ever be the same. It's changed, can't you feel it?"

Yes I could feel it. It was not so much changed as changing; and the reason was that we weren't children any more. Mellyora would soon be seventeen; and I should be a few months after. We would put our hair up and be young ladies. We were growing up; we were already thinking with nostalgia of the long sunny days of childhood.

Sir Justin's life was no longer in danger and his elder son had brought a bride to the Abbas. This was a time for rejoicing and the St. Larnstons had decided to give a ball. It would take place before the summer was over and it was hoped that it would be a warm night so that the guests could enjoy the beauty of the grounds as well as the splendors of the house.

Invitations were issued and there was one for Mellyora and her father. The bride and groom had gone to Italy for their honeymoon and the ball was to celebrate their return. It was to be a masked ball; a very grand affair. We heard that it was the wish of Sir Justin, who would not himself be able to join in, that the ball should take place.

I wasn't quite sure how Mellyora felt about the invitation; she seemed to veer between excitement and melancholy. She was changing as she grew up; she had once been so serene. I was envious and couldn't hide it.

"How I wish you could come, Kerensa," she said. "Oh, how I should love to see you there. That old house means something to you, doesn't it?"

"Yes," I said, "a sort of symbol."

She nodded. It often happened that our minds were in tune and I didn't have to explain to her. She went about with a thoughtful frown for some days and when I mentioned the ball she shrugged the subject aside impatiently.

About four days after she had received the invitation she came out of her father's study looking grave.

"Papa's not well," she said. "I've known he hasn't been for some time."

I had known it, too; his skin seemed to be getting more and more yellow every day.

"He says," she went on, "that he can't go to the ball."

I had been wondering what sort of costume he would have worn because it was difficult to imagine him looking like anything but a parson.

"Does this mean that you won't go?"

"I can't very well go alone."

"Oh ... Mellyora."

She shrugged impatiently and that afternoon she went out with Miss Kellow in the pony trap. I heard the trap from my window and when I looked out and saw them I felt hurt because she hadn't asked me to go with them.

When she came back she burst into my room, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks slightly flushed.

She sat on my bed and started to bounce up and down. Then she stopped and putting her head on one side said: "Cinderella, how would you like to go to the ball?"

"Mellyora," I gasped. "You mean ..."

She nodded.

"You are invited. Well, not you exactly, because she hasn't the faintest notion ... but I have an invitation for you and it's going to be such fun, Kerensa. Much more than going with Papa or some chaperone he might have found for me."

"How did you manage it?"

"This afternoon I called on Lady St. Larnston. It happens to be her At-Home day. That gave me an opportunity of speaking to her, so I told her Papa was unwell and unable to bring me to the ball, but I had a friend staying with me—so could his invitation be transferred to her? She was very gracious."

"Mellyora ... but when she knows!"

"She won't. I changed your name just in case she might know you. She got the impression that you are my Aunt, although I didn't say so. It's a masked ball. She'll receive us at the staircase. You'll have to try to look of sober years ... old enough to take a young lady to a ball. I'm so excited about it now, Kerensa. We'll have to decide what we're going to wear. Costumes! Just imagine it. Everyone will look glorious. By the way, you'll be Miss Carlyon."

"Miss Carlyon," I murmured. Then: "How can I get a costume?"

She put her head on one side. "You should have worked harder on your needlework. You see. Papa is worried about money so he can't give me very much to buy a gown; and we'll have to find two out of one."

"How can I go without a gown?"

"Don't be so easily defeated. 'Life is yours to make it as you will.' What about that? And here you are saying "can't, can't, can't,' at the first obstacle." She put her arms round me suddenly and clung to me. "It's fun having a sister," she said. "What was that your old Granny said about sharing things?"

"That if you shared your joys you doubled them; if you shared your sorrows you halved them."

"It's true. Now that you're coming, I'm so excited." She pushed me away from her and sat down on the bed again. "The first thing to do is to decide what costumes we should like to wear; and then we'll see how near we can get to them. Picture yourself looking like one of those paintings in the gallery at the Abbas. Oh, you haven't seen them. Velvet, I think. You would make a fine Spaniard with your dark hair piled up high and a comb and a mantilla."

I was excited now. I said, "I have Spanish blood; my grandfather was Spanish. I could get the comb and mantilla."

"There, you see. Red velvet, I think, for you. My Mamma had a red velvet evening gown. Her things haven't been touched." She was up again, taking my hands and twirling me round. "The masks are easy. You cut them out of black velvet, and we'll do patterns on them with beads. We've got three weeks to get ready."

I was far more excited than she. It was true my invitation was a little oblique and would never have been given had Lady St. Larnston known who was receiving it; but still, I was going. I was going to wear a red velvet dress which I had seen and tried on. It had to be altered and reshaped, but we could do it. Miss Kellow helped, not very graciously, but she was an expert needlewoman.

I was pleased because my costume was costing nothing, and the money —not very much—which the Reverend Charles had given Mellyora could all be spent on her. We decided that her costume should be Grecian, so we bought white velvet and gold-colored silk on which we sewed gold sequins. It was a loose-fitting govern caught in by gold, and with her hair falling about her shoulders and in her black velvet mask she looked beautiful.

As the days passed we talked of nothing but the ball and Sir Justin's health. We were terrified that he would die and the ball have to be canceled.

I went to tell Granny Bee about it.

"I'm going as a Spanish lady," I told her. "It's the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me."

She looked at me a little sadly; then she said: "Don't count on too much from it, lovey."

"I'm not counting on anything," I said. "Fm just reminding myself that I shall go in the Abbas ... as a guest. I shall be dressed in red velvet. Granny, you should see the dress I'm to wear."

"Parson's daughter have been good to you, lovey. Be her friend always."

"Of course I shall. She's as glad to have me to go with her as I am to go. Miss Kellow thinks I shouldn't be going, though."

"Tis to be hoped she don't find some way of telling Lady St. Larnston who you be."

I shook my head triumphantly. "She wouldn't dare."

Granny went to the storehouse and I followed and watched while she opened the box and took out the two combs and mantillas.

"I like to put mine on some nights," she said. "Then when I'm here alone I fancy Pedro's with me. For that's how he did like to see me. Come. Let me try this on you." Lightly she held up my hair and stuck the comb in the back. It was a tall comb set with brilliants. "You look just as I did at your age, lovey. Now the mantilla." She draped it about my head and stood back.

"When it is done as it should be, there won't be one of 'em to touch you," she declared. "I'd like to dress your hair myself, Granddaughter."

It was the first time she had addressed me thus and I could sense her pride in me.

"Come to the parsonage on the night. Granny," I said. "Then you can see my room and dress my hair for me."

"Would it be allowed?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not a servant there ... not really. Only you can dress my hair, so you must."

She laid her hand on my arm and smiled at me.

"Take care, Kerensa," she said. "Always take care."

An invitation had arrived for me. It said that Sir Justin and Lady St. Larnston requested the pleasure of Miss Carlyon at the costume ball. Mellyora and I were almost hysterical with laughter when we read it, and Mellyora kept calling me Miss Carlyon in an imitation of Lady St. Larnston's voice.

There was no time to lose. When our dresses were finished we tried them on every day and I practiced wearing the comb and mantilla. We sat together making our masks, sewing shiny black bugle beads on them so that they glittered. Those days were some of the happiest of my life.

We practiced dancing. It was very easy when you were young and light on your feet, Mellyora said. You simply followed your partner; I discovered that I could dance well and I loved it.

During those days we did not notice that the Reverend Charles was growing more and more wan every day. He spent a great deal of time in his study. He knew how excited we were and I think—although this didn't occur to me until afterwards—that he didn't want to cast the slightest shadow over our pleasure.

At last the day of the ball arrived. Mellyora and I dressed in our costumes and Granny came to the parsonage to do my hair.