violin-case a
touch with her foot; "it's all sin and wickedness--plays, and balls, and
music, and----"

"Nonsense, Graves! Never tell me music is wrong. Why, you sing hymns at
Lady Huntingdon's Chapel--_that_ is music!"

"I don't hold with _that_ altogether; but hymns is one thing, and
foolish love-songs another. I am trembling for you, my dear; I am
trembling for you, with your flowers and your finery. The service of the
world is hard bondage."

Griselda had now put away her violin, and had taken up the flowers which
she had allowed to lie on the table, till her treasured possession was
in safety; and, as Graves departed, she said, as she saw a note hidden
in the centre of the bouquet:

"I am sure I don't care for these flowers; you may take them down to her
ladyship, if you please."

But Graves was gone.

A girl of twenty was not likely to be absolutely without curiosity, and,
though Griselda tore the scented, three-cornered billet open, and read
the contents with some eagerness, her face was flushed and her lip
curled as she did so.

"To the fairest of the fair! These poor flowers came from one who lives
on her smile and hungers for her presence, with the prayer that she will
grant him one dance to-night--if but _one_----"

Then there was a curious tangle of letters, which were twisted in the
form of a heart, the letter "G" being in the shape of a dart which had
pierced it.

Griselda tore the note in pieces, and said:

"Why does he not send his ridiculous billets to the person who wants
them? I hate him, and his finery, and his flattery. I know not which is
worse."

Hours were early in the eighteenth century, and by seven o'clock the two
ladies met in the dining-parlour of the house in North Parade ready for
the ball, and awaiting the arrival of the sedan-chairs, which were
attended by Lady Betty's own man.

Lady Betty had recovered her good temper, and her rose-coloured sacque,
with its short-elbow sleeves and long puckered gloves, was quite to her
mind. The satin skirt was toned down by lamp-light, and the diamond
buckles on her dainty shoes glistened and gleamed as she went through a
step of the minuet, with her fan held in the most approved fashion.

"Upon my word, we are a pretty pair to-night! But, do you know, Carteret
vowed he thought I was younger than you were at the last ball! Fancy! I,
a widow, not quite fat, fair, and forty, but in my thirties I freely
allow! Child, you look as pale a