"Are you looking for Mrs. Curtis?" said Colonel Keith. "I think she is
in the other room."
"Not particularly, thank you," said Rachel, and she was surprised to
find how glad she was to look up freely at him.
"Would it be contrary to your principles or practice to dance with me?"
"To my practice," she said smilingly, "so let us find my mother. Is
Miss Alison Williams here? I never heard whether it was settled that she
should come," she added, resolved both to show him her knowledge of his
situation, and to let her mother see her at her ease with him.
"No, she was obstinate, though her sister and I did our utmost to
persuade her, and the boys were crazy to make her go."
"I can't understand your wishing it."
"Not as an experience of life? Alison never went to anything in her
girlhood, but devoted herself solely to her sister, and it would be
pleasant to see her begin her youth."
"Not as a mere young lady!" exclaimed Rachel.
"That is happily not possible."
An answer that somewhat puzzled Rachel, whose regard for him was likely
to be a good deal dependent upon his contentment with Alison's station
in life.
"I must say young ladyhood looks to the greatest advantage there,"
Rachel could not help exclaiming, as at that moment Elizabeth Keith
smiled at them, as she floated past, her airy white draperies looped
with scarlet ribbons; her dark hair turned back and fastened by a snood
of the same, an eagle's feather clasped in it by a large emerald, a
memory of her father's last siege--that of Lucknow.
"She is a very pretty creature," said the Colonel, under the sparkle of
her bright eyes.
"I never saw any one make the pursuits of young ladyhood have so much
spirit and meaning," added Rachel. "Here you see she has managed to make
herself sufficiently like other people, yet full of individual character
and meaning."
"That is the theory of dress, I suppose," said the Colonel.
"If one chooses to cultivate it."
"Did you ever see Lady Temple in full dress?"
"No; we were not out when we parted as girls."
"Then you have had a loss. I think it was at our last Melbourne ball,
that when she went to the nursery to wish the children good night, one
of them--Hubert, I believe--told her to wear that dress when she went to
heaven, and dear old Sir Stephen was so delighted that he went straight
upstairs to kiss the boy for it."
"Was that Lady Temple?" said Alick Keith, who having found Miss Grey
engaged many deep, joined them again, and at his words came back a
thrill of Rachel's old fear and doubt as to the possible future.