ith
pooh-poohed the idea as though it were monstrous. "Don't be a goose,
Ada," she said; "of course this is to be your night. What does it
signify what I wear?"

"Oh, but it does;--just the same as for me. I don't see why you are
not to be just as nice as myself."

"That's not true, my dear."

"Why not true? There is quite as much depends on your good fortune as
on mine. And then you are so much the cleverer of the two."

Then when the day for the ball drew near, there came to be some more
serious conversation between them.

"Ada, love, you mean to enjoy yourself, don't you?"

"If I can I will. When I go to these things I never know whether they
will lead to enjoyment or the reverse. Some little thing happens so
often, and everything seems to go wrong."

"They shouldn't go wrong with you, my pet."

"Why not with me as well as with others?"

"Because you are so beautiful to look at. You are made to be queen of
a ball-room; not a London ball-room, where everything, I take it, is
flash and faded, painted and stale, and worn out; but down here in
the country, where there is some life among us, and where a girl may
be supposed to be excited over her dancing. It is in such rooms as
this that hearts are won and lost; a bid made for diamonds is all
that is done in London."

"I never was at a London ball," said Ada.

"Nor I either; but one reads of them. I can fancy a man really caring
for a girl down in Galway. Can you fancy a man caring for a girl?"

"I don't know," said Ada.

"For yourself, now?"

"I don't think anybody will ever care much for me."

"Oh, Ada, what a fib. It is all very pretty, your mock modestly, but
it is so untrue. A man not love you! Why, I can fancy a man thinking
that the gods could not allow him a greater grace than the privilege
of taking you in his arms."

"Isn't anyone to take you in his arms, then?"

"No, no one. I am not a thing to be looked at in that light. I mean
eventually to take to women's rights, and to make myself generally
odious. Only I have promised to stick to papa, and I have got to do
that first. You;--who will you stick to?"

"I don't know," said Ada.

"If I were to suggest Captain Yorke Clayton? If I were to suppose
that he is the man who is to have the privilege?"

"Don't, Edith."

"He is my hero, and you are my pet, and I want to bring you two
together. I want to have my share in the hero; and still to keep a
share in my pet. Is not that rational?"