Mrs. Aylett was in her best feather that night; the suave
chatelaine, the dutiful consort; the tactful warder of the
interesting pair whose movements she had not ceased to watch from
the moment they took their places with the party about the
fire-place in the hall until she, alone of all the company, saw
Herbert Dorrance draw the diamond signet from its receptacle, and
the sparkle of the jewel as it slipped to its abiding-place upon
Mabel's finger.
Lest something unusual in their look or behavior should excite the
suspicions of their companions, make them the focus of inquisitive
observation and whispered remark, the diplomate passed again into
the hall, sweeping along in advance of them when they deserted their
curtained recess, and would have joined the rest of the company.
"Are we to have no dancing this evening?" she said, in hospitable
solicitude. "It wants an hour yet of supper-time. The exercise will
do you all good, particularly the young ladies, who have not stirred
beyond the piazzas to-day. I have been waiting for an invitation to
play for you, but my desire for your welfare has overcome native
humility. Will you accept my services as your musician?"
The suggestion was acceded to by acclamation, and while one
gentleman led her to the grand piano which stood between the front
windows of the drawing-room, and another opened a music-book which
she named, a set was quickly formed in the long apartment, the
soberer portion of the crowd ranging themselves along the walls as
lookers-on.
Mrs. Aylett was a proficient in dance-music. She never volunteered
to perform that which she was not conscious of doing well. She had
occasionally taken the floor for a single quadrille, to oblige a
favored guest--always a middle-aged or elderly gentleman--or moved
through a cotillion with ease and spirit as partner to her husband,
but she declined dancing, as a rule; was altogether indifferent to
the amusement, while she delighted to oblige her friends by playing
for them whenever and as long as they required her aid. Without
saying, in so many words, that she disapproved of the waltz for
unmarried ladies, and frowned upon promiscuous dancing for matrons,
she yet managed to regulate the social code of the neighborhood in
both these respects, was imitated and quoted by the most discreet of
chaperones and belles.
Mr. Dorrance was Mabel's partner; Rosa stood up with Randolph
Harrison, a gay youth, who was her latest attache; Tom Barksdale led
out a blushing, yet sprightly school-girl, and Imogene was his
vis-a-vis supported by an ancient admirer, who had comforted himself
for her preference for another man by falling in love with a
prettier woman. The room was decorated with garlands of running
cedar--a vine known in higher latitudes as "ground-pine," and which
carpeted acres of the Ridgeley woods. The vases on the mantel were
filled with holly, and other gayly colored berry boughs, while
roses, lemon and orange blossoms, mignonette and violets from the
conservatory were set about on tables and brackets, blending fresher
and more wholesome odors with those of the Parisian extracts wafted
from the ladies' dresses and handkerchiefs.