The day, as she had prognosticated, turned out fine; for weather-wisdom was imbibed with their milk-sops by the children of the Exe Vale.The impending meeting excited Margery, and she performed her duties in her father's house with mechanical unconsciousness.
Milking, skimming, cheese****** were done.Her father was asleep in the settle, the milkmen and maids were gone home to their cottages, and the clock showed a quarter to eight.She dressed herself with care, went to the top of the garden, and looked over the stile.The view was eastward, and a great moon hung before her in a sky which had not a cloud.Nothing was moving except on the minutest scale, and she remained leaning over, the night-hawk sounding his croud from the bough of an isolated tree on the open hill side.
Here Margery waited till the appointed time had passed by three-quarters of an hour; but no Baron came.She had been full of an idea, and her heart sank with disappointment.Then at last the pacing of a horse became audible on the soft path without, leading up from the water-meads, simultaneously with which she beheld the form of the stranger, riding home, as he had said.
The moonlight so flooded her face as to make her very conspicuous in the garden-gap.'Ah my maiden--what is your name--Margery!' he said.
'How came you here? But of course I remember--we were to meet.And it was to be at eight--proh pudor!--I have kept you waiting!'
'It doesn't matter, sir.I've thought of something.'
'Thought of something?'
'Yes, sir.You said this morning that I was to think what I would like best in the world, and I have made up my mind.'
'I did say so--to be sure I did,' he replied, collecting his thoughts.'I remember to have had good reason for gratitude to you.'
He placed his hand to his brow, and in a minute alighted, and came up to her with the bridle in his hand.'I was to give you a treat or present, and you could not think of one.Now you have done so.Let me hear what it is, and I'll be as good as my word.'
'To go to the Yeomanry Ball that's to be given this month.'
'The Yeomanry Ball--Yeomanry Ball?' he murmured, as if, of all requests in the world, this was what he had least expected.'Where is what you call the Yeomanry Ball?'
'At Exonbury.'
'Have you ever been to it before?'
'No, sir.'
'Or to any ball?'
'No.'
'But did I not say a gift--a present?'
'Or a treat?'
'Ah, yes, or a treat,' he echoed, with the air of one who finds himself in a slight fix.'But with whom would you propose to go?'
'I don't know.I have not thought of that yet.'
'You have no friend who could take you, even if I got you an invitation?'
Margery looked at the moon.'No one who can dance,' she said;adding, with hesitation, 'I was thinking that perhaps--'
'But, my dear Margery,' he said, stopping her, as if he half-divined what her ****** dream of a cavalier had been; 'it is very odd that you can think of nothing else than going to a Yeomanry Ball.Think again.You are sure there is nothing else?'
'Quite sure, sir,' she decisively answered.At first nobody would have noticed in that pretty young face any sign of decision; yet it was discoverable.The mouth, though soft, was firm in line; the eyebrows were distinct, and extended near to each other.'I have thought of it all day,' she continued, sadly.'Still, sir, if you are sorry you offered me anything, I can let you off.'
'Sorry?--Certainly not, Margery,' be said, rather nettled.'I'll show you that whatever hopes I have raised in your breast I am honourable enough to gratify.If it lies in my power,' he added with sudden firmness, 'you SHALL go to the Yeomanry Ball.In what building is it to be held?'
'In the Assembly Rooms.'
'And would you be likely to be recognized there? Do you know many people?'
'Not many, sir.None, I may say.I know nobody who goes to balls.'
'Ah, well; you must go, since you wish it; and if there is no other way of getting over the difficulty of having nobody to take you, I'll take you myself.Would you like me to do so? I can dance.'
'O, yes, sir; I know that, and I thought you might offer to do it.
But would you bring me back again?'
'Of course I'll bring you back.But, by-the-bye, can YOU dance?'
'Yes.'
'What?'
'Reels, and jigs, and country-dances like the New-Rigged-Ship, and Follow-my-Lover, and Haste-to-the-Wedding, and the College Hornpipe, and the Favourite Quickstep, and Captain White's dance.'
'A very good list--a very good! but unluckily I fear they don't dance any of those now.But if you have the instinct we may soon cure your ignorance.Let me see you dance a moment.'
She stood out into the garden-path, the stile being still between them, and seizing a side of her skirt with each hand, performed the movements which are even yet far from uncommon in the dances of the villagers of merry England.But her motions, though graceful, were not precisely those which appear in the figures of a modern ball-room.
'Well, my good friend, it is a very pretty sight,' he said, warming up to the proceedings.'But you dance too well--you dance all over your person--and that's too thorough a way for the present day.Ishould say it was exactly how they danced in the time of your poet Chaucer; but as people don't dance like it now, we must consider.
First I must inquire more about this ball, and then I must see you again.'
'If it is a great trouble to you, sir, I--'
'O no, no.I will think it over.So far so good.'
The Baron mentioned an evening and an hour when he would be passing that way again; then mounted his horse and rode away.
On the next occasion, which was just when the sun was changing places with the moon as an illuminator of Silverthorn Dairy, she found him at the spot before her, and unencumbered by a horse.The melancholy that had so weighed him down at their first interview, and had been perceptible at their second, had quite disappeared.He pressed her right hand between both his own across the stile.