n mistake in regard to the hour designated upon Mr.
Carewe's cards of invitation. This small embarrassment, however, did
not prevent General Trumble and young Mr. Chenoweth from coming to high
words over Miss Carewe's little, gilt-filigree "programme" of dances.

It may be not untimely to remark, also, of these five redoubtable beaux,
that, during the evening, it occurred to every one of them to be glad
that Crailey Gray was betrothed to Fanchon Bareaud, and that he was down
on the Rouen River with a canoe, a rod and a tent. Nay, without more
words, to declare the truth in regard to Crailey, they felt greater
security in his absence from the field than in his betrothal. As Mr.
Chenoweth, a youth as open as out-of-doors, both in countenance and
mind, observed plaintively to Tappingham Marsh in a corner, while they
watched Miss Betty's lavender flowers miraculously swirling through a
quadrille: "Crailey, you know, well, Crailey's been engaged before!" It
was not Mr. Chenoweth's habit to disguise his apprehensions, and Crailey
Gray would not fish for bass forever.

The same Chenoweth was he, who, maddened by the General's triumphantly
familiar way of toying with Miss Betty's fan between two dances,
attempted to propose to her during the sunrise waltz. Having sung
"Oh, believe me" in her ear as loudly as he could, he expressed the
wish--quite as loudly--"That this waltz might last for always!"

That was the seventh time it had been said to Betty during the night,
and though Mr. Chenoweth's predecessors had revealed their desires in
a guise lacking this prodigious artlessness, she already possessed no
novel acquaintance with the exclamation. But she made no comment; her
partner's style was not a stimulant to repartee. "It would be
heaven," he amplified earnestly, "it would be heaven to dance with you
forever--on a desert isle where the others couldn't come!" he finished
with sudden acerbity as his eye caught the General's.

He proceeded, and only the cessation of the music aided Miss Carewe in
stopping the declaration before it was altogether out; and at that point
Frank's own father came to her rescue, though in a fashion little saving
of her confusion. The elder Chenoweth was one of the gallant and kindly
Southern colony that made it natural for Rouen always to speak of Miss
Carewe as "Miss Betty". He was a handsome old fellow, whose hair,
long moustache and imperial were as white as he was proud of them, a
Virginian wi