the review and the ball were still in store. bourhope would not be beaten with that double shot in reserve. it [page 294]would go hard with the brown, curly, independent laird if he were beaten, for already he was shaken more in his pride and confidence than he ever thought to be.
the review, for which all the drilling had been undertaken, went off without serious effect on the contesting parties. the only thing was, that bourhope was so disturbed and so distracted in his mind that he could not attend to orders, and lost his character as a yeoman, and all chance of being future fugleman to his corps. and this, although the major had said, when the drills began, that there was not a finer man or more promising dragoon than bourhope in the regiment.
chrissy's bright, tranquil satisfaction in contemplating, from the box of mrs. spottiswoode's phaeton, the stand of county ladies, with their gorgeousness and grace, was decidedly impaired. the review, with its tramping and halting, its squares and files, its shouting leaders, galloping aides-de-camp, flashing swords and waving plumes, was certainly very fine. all the rest of priorton said so and proved so, for they stood or sat for a whole day witnessing it, under a scorching sun, on foot, and in every description of vehicle from a corn-cart to a coroneted carriage. yes, the review was very fine to the mass; but it was only a confused, hollow, agitating play to chrissy as to bourhope. still she lost sight of the grand general rank and file, by concentrating her regard on one little scarlet dot. it was to her a play with its heart a-wanting, and yet the whirl and movement were welcome for a moment as substitutes for that heart.
the ball remained, and bourhope was resolute it should [page 295]settle the question for him. it was the commendable fashion at priorton that no young lady should refuse to dance with an acquaintance without the excuse of a previous engagement, under the penalty of having to sit the rest of the night. bourhope would get chrissy to himself that night (balls were of some use, after all, he thought), and have an opportunity of hearing a terribly decisive word, and of getting a reason for that word too, should it prove unfavourable. in short, he would storm the fortress, and beat down its faltering guard then or never.
others besides bourhope had determined on making the ball a theatre of explanations. mrs. spottiswoode was not pleased with the aspect of things as between bourhope and corrie. their affair made no advance, and the ball was the conclusion of the yeomanry weeks. the yeomen were already to all intents and purposes disbanded, and about to return, like cincinnatus, to their reaping-hooks. corrie was evidently not contented. she was listless and a little peevish, unless when in the company of other yeomen than bourhope—a rare thing with corrie, who was really a very harmless girl. but she looked elegant in her ball dress, and had always a train of admirers on such occasions. and then, of course, many men needed the spur of jealousy to induce them to take the bold leap of matrimony. chrissy, too, had her own fears and doubts about this ball. bourhope hitherto had only pursued her, if he had pursued her, in rather a secret manner. she would now see how he would treat her on a public occasion. his conduct would then be marked and conspicuous, and even mrs. spottiswoode's and corrie's eyes [page 296]would be opened to it. then, again, he would have an opportunity of contrasting her personally with all the girls about priorton. chrissy gazed wistfully into the glass as she fastened her yellow scrimp old white frock, and sighed. but she did not look so much amiss as she supposed: she was young, slight, and full of subtle character. and with her scarlet coral beads twisted among her dark little turret curls and bows, there was piquancy and attraction in chrissy. but her first purely disinterested and unbounded pleasure in the gaiety was grievously chequered, and it was to be feared the account she would carry home of her first ball to expectant blackfaulds would be disappointing.
there were only two chaises in repair in priorton, to convey the whole townspeople in rotation to the ball. it was thus unavoidable that some should be very early, as well as some very late. mr. spottiswoode, as provost, was of course among the first after the colonel and his lady, old country people, who stood arm-in-arm, bluff and bland, under the evergreens over the door, and shook hands with everybody, great and small—a family of pretty girls meanwhile laughing behind them.
mrs. spottiswoode wore a splendid bunch of white feathers tipped with straw-colour in her blue gauze turban. even chrissy's dazed eyes noticed that, as well as the white ribbon in provost spottiswoode's bottle-green coat, which pointed him out an honorary steward. but how handsome brown curly bourhope looked in his red coat!
a strange thought came over chrissy. she did not wish corrie, in her white crape and french ribbons, and so tall [page 297]and straight and fair, to be blighted in her beauty—no, not for a moment. but chrissy was cruel enough to cherish a passing wish that, by some instantaneous transformation, bourhope might be pitted with smallpox, or scarred with gunpowder, or have premature age brought upon him as with the wave of a wand—the soul within being left unchanged, however.
mrs. spottiswoode, unlike chrissy, was quite alive to the practical. she remarked everything with keen eyes, and determined now to be at the bottom of the business. she should either go in and win triumphantly, or take a sudden tack and sail away with flying colours, as if she had never entertained the most distant intention of coming to close quarters, and thus give the impression that she never had any intention of promoting a match between bourhope and corrie.
mrs. spottiswoode thought bourhope looked as if he were going to do something desperate. his first blunder had been to hand, or rather lift, chrissy into the chaise instead of corrie, at starting from their own door. he repeated the unaccountable blunder at the county rooms, which compelled him to take chrissy into the ball-room; and while chrissy was still gazing in bewilderment and admiration at the evergreens and chalked floors, and talking, laughing couples, mrs. spottiswoode could scarcely believe her ears when she distinctly heard bourhope ask chrissy's hand for the first dance, saying that he would have engaged it before if he had got the opportunity.
now mrs. spottiswoode had no doubt that bourhope would solicit her sister corrie for this dance, and therefore [page 298]she had peremptorily forbidden corrie to engage herself in any other quarter, even when corrie had demurred at the certainty of the arrangement. it was very odd of bourhope, unless he thought chrissy would have no chance of any other partner, and wanted to spare a plain little girl's mortification at the very commencement of the evening. "that must be it," mrs. spottiswoode said to herself, and was consoled by corrie's hand being immediately requested for the colonel's nephew.
the colonel's wife opened the ball with the most popular and oldest private for partner, and, of course, chrissy and bourhope stood below corrie and the colonel's nephew. but bourhope and chrissy did not mind corrie's precedence, and were talking to each other quite intimately. bourhope was forgetting the figure and bending across to chrissy, though he was saying nothing particular, and speaking out quite loud. but he looked engrossed and excited. if it had been any other girl but chrissy, mrs. spottiswoode would have called it a flirtation, and more than a flirtation. chrissy looked well in her shabby dress, almost pretty indeed, in the new atmosphere. mrs. spottiswoode was aggrieved, disgusted in the first instance, but she would not just yet believe such an incredible contradiction to her well-laid scheme. match-making involves so many parties, there are such wheels within wheels of calculation and resource. she glanced at corrie, who was dancing very complacently with the colonel's nephew, and exchanging passing words with yeomen who tried to get speech with her. in her white crape, and teeth as white, and her dimples, she was safe, heart-whole and prosperous[page 299]—a beauty who might pick and choose a suitable husband, even though bourhope, infatuated, threw himself away.
mrs. spottiswoode gave a sigh of relief. failure now would only be comparative.
the dance being over, bourhope sat down beside chrissy. no, she turned her head the other way, and he rose up and strolled through the room. but he was soon back in his old place.
he wanted to dance with chrissy again. she hesitated, grew nervous, and cast her eyes on mrs. spottiswoode. he went straight to their hostess, and said, "mrs. spottiswoode, you have no objection that i dance this dance again with miss chrissy hunter?"
"none in the world, bourhope," said mrs. spottiswoode, with a spasmodic smile, "why should i?"
"why, indeed?" he returned, "or every dance? may i tell her so?"
"that is as she and you may agree. you are aware that would appear something serious," she said, trying to laugh.
"i will take the consequences," he significantly assured her, and went back and told chrissy so, and then he drove her to her inmost citadel, and beat her there.
other eyes than mrs. spottiswoode's were attracted to the pair. half-a-dozen matrons' heads went wagging significantly; girls whispered and tittered; gentlemen opened their eyes, shaped their mouths as if about to whistle, strolled up and took their observations of the pre-occupied, unconscious couple quite coolly, and then speculated and gossiped.
[page 300]mrs. spottiswoode read these comments as well as what had gone before, and was ready with her magnanimity. it was this which constituted her a truly able tactician. she shifted her tack before the shout of malicious exultation and ridicule could have been raised at her discomfiture. by a dexterous sleight of hand, she shuffled her cards and altered her suit. in a moment mrs. spottiswoode was winking and nodding with the matrons interested in the news of the night. she arrested a good-humoured yeoman, and crossed the room on his arm, to express and receive congratulations. "you have found out the secret? foolish fellow, bourhope; he cannot conceal his feelings, though their display is premature. i must scold him for exposing himself and her. poor dear! she is not accustomed to this sort of thing. but i am so delighted—so nice, isn't it? such an excellent marriage for my cousin chrissy—a good girl, a very clever girl—such a fortunate beginning for the blackfaulds family. i often say the first marriage makes or mars a family of girls. it is so lucky that i invited chrissy for the yeomanry weeks this summer. it is a great deal better than if it had been corrie, because corrie can wait," with a careless wave of her hand in the direction in which corrie moved, deliberately followed by her train. "corrie has too many admirers to make up her mind speedily, yet she takes it all very quietly. but this is so appropriate—mr. spottiswoode's cousin and my cousin—nobody could have planned it better."
she turned round, and heard a blunt booby of a farmer speaking out his mind. she at once took him up—"you would not have thought it? you [page 301]cannot comprehend what has come over bourhope, or what he sees in that thin, yellow mite, miss hunter of blackfaulds, even though she were as good as a saint, and as wise as the queen of sheba? oh! come, balquin, you do not allow sufficient latitude to goodness and cleverness. i tell you, bourhope has neither eyes nor ears for anybody but that mite; he counts his colourless daisy far before the gayest painted face. he knows that we are remarking on them now, and he is holding his head as high as if he had sought and won a queen. he is right; she will prove a sensible, cheerful wife to him. bourhope will have the cleverest, best wife in the county, for all your swaggering. and that is something, when a man comes to be old and has an old wife like me. not old, balquin? away with you. i wish the provost heard you. do you think to flatter me because i am in spirits about my cousin's match? no, it is not lost that a friend gets, balquin."
the public of priorton did not know whether most to admire mrs. spottiswoode's diplomacy, or this rare instance of poetic justice.
