At Last - Page 69/170

Her collected, urbane self once more, she took her husband's arm,

and passed through the opening ranks of her friends, bowing to this

side and that, with apologetic banter and graceful words of

regret--still very pale, but changed in no other respect.

"A singular episode in an evening's entertainment," said Mr.

Dorrance, leading Mabel to her stand in the re-forming set. "I never

knew Clara to succumb before to any type of syncope or asphyxia. She

is a woman of remarkable nerve and courage. And, by the way, how

preposterous is the common use of the word 'nervous.' The ablest

lexicographers define it as 'strong, well-strung, full of nerve,'

whereas, in ordinary parlance, it has come to signify the very

opposite of these. When I speak of a nervous speaker or writer, for

example, what do I mean?"

"One who imbibes unwholesomely large quantities of strong green tea,

and sees hobgoblins peering at her through the window-panes!" said

Rosa, sarcastically artless, tripping by in season to overhear this

clause of his small-talk.

Mabel's imperturbable good-breeding prevented embarrassment or

resentment at the interruption. At heart, she was vexed that Rosa

should omit no opportunity of shooting privily and audaciously at

her practical admirer, but to betray her appreciation of the

impertinence would be to subject herself to imputations of

sensitiveness on his account.

"I saw the hobgoblin without the aid of green tea," she rejoined.

"There was really some one upon the porch, but why the apparition

should scare Clara out of her wits, I cannot divine. The negro is an

incurable Paul Pry, and, next to dancing a Christmas jig himself, is

the pleasure of seeing others do it."

Mrs. Aylett verified her brother's encomium upon her nerve by

reappearing in the saloon by the time another set was over, and just

before the announcement of supper, radiant and self-possessed,

prepared to do double social duty to atone for the fright she had

caused, and the temporary damp her swoon had cast over the

festivities.

The revel went joyously forward--Christmas-games and incantations,

the dexterous introduction, by a jocose old gentleman, of a

mistletoe-bough into the festoons draping the chandelier, and divers

other tricks, all of which were taken in excellent part by the

victims thereof, and vociferously applauded by the spectators. The

great hall-clock had rung out twelve strokes, and two or three

methodical seniors were beginning to whisper to one another their

intention to take French leave of the indefatigable juniors and seek

their couches, when a continued tumult arose from the yard--barking

and shouts, and voices in angry or eager dispute.