Lady Temple received an invitation, but never for one moment thought of

going, or even supposed that any one could imagine she could. Indeed, if

she had accepted it, it would have been a decisive encouragement to her

ancient suitor, and Colin saw that he regarded her refusal, in its broad

black edges, as a further clenching of the reply to his addresses.

Bessie was to be chaperoned by Mrs. Curtis. As to Rachel, she had

resolved against youthful gaieties for this winter and all others, but

she felt that to show any reluctance to accept the Keith invitation

might be a contradiction to her indifference to the Colonel, and so

construed by her mother, Grace, and Bessie. So all she held out for was,

that as she had no money to spend upon adornments, her blue silk dinner

dress, and her birthday wreath, should and must do duty; and as to her

mother's giving her finery, she was far too impressive and decided for

Mrs. Curtis to venture upon such presumption. She was willing to walk

through her part for an evening, and indeed the county was pretty well

accustomed to Miss Rachel Curtis's ball-room ways, and took them as a

matter of course.

Gowanbrae had two drawing-rooms with folding doors between, quite

practicable for dancing, and the further one ending in a conservatory,

that likewise extended along the end of the entrance hall and

dining-room. The small library, where Colonel Keith usually sat, became

the cloak-room, and contained, when Mrs. Curtis and her daughters

arrived, so large a number of bright cashmere cloaklets, scarlet, white,

and blue, that they began to sigh prospectively at the crowd which,

Mrs. Curtis would have encountered with such joyful valour save for that

confidence on the way home from the book club.

They were little prepared for the resources of a practised

staff-officer. Never had a ball even to them looked so well arranged,

or in such thorough style, as a little dexterous arrangement of flowers,

lights, and sofas, and rendered those two rooms. The two hosts worked

extremely well. Lord Keith had shaken off much of his careless stoop

and air of age, and there was something in his old-world polish and

his Scotch accent that gave a sort of romance to the manner of his

reception. His brother, with his fine brow, and thoughtful eyes,

certainly appeared to Rachel rather thrown away as master of the

ceremonies, but whatever he did, he always did in the quietest and best

way, and receptions had been a part of his vocation, so that he infused

a wonderful sense of ease, and supplied a certain oil of good breeding

that made everything move suavely. Young ladies in white, and mothers in

all the colours of the rainbow, were there in plenty, and, by Bessie's

special command, the scene was enlivened by the Highland uniform, with

the graceful tartan scarf fastened across the shoulder with the Bruce

brooch.




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