better for her designs if she could have carried out her original
programme, and contrived that the Grange party should keep to
themselves; but as things were it was obvious that Lionel Beauchamp
would go to the Commonstone ball, and under those circumstances she
promptly decided that it would be advisable for Blanche and herself to
go too. Her mind misgave her that Sylla Chipchase was a formidable
rival to Blanche in the matter of beauty and attraction; still, the
encountering of no opposition could but make Miss Sylla more
formidable. Just as she had resolved upon a change of front, the
Squire entered the room.

"My dear Cedric," she exclaimed, "how could you be so foolish? What
made you encourage all these people in the absurdity of wishing to
attend that Easter ball?--a mob of tag, rag, and bobtail, tradespeople
and people from Heaven knows where: very good fun, no doubt, for the
officers from Rockcliffe, Jim, or any other young men, but no place for
ladies and their daughters to go to."

"What nonsense, Mary! Why, you know we always did go to the
Commonstone balls; besides, Mrs. Sartoris expressed----"

"Don't talk to me about what Mrs. Sartoris expressed," interrupted Lady
Mary sharply; "that woman is evidently one of the fast school, and I am
very sorry for Blanche's sake that I asked her down here at all."

This was a most unjustified accusation against poor little Mrs.
Sartoris, who was simply a young married woman fond of dancing and
gaiety.

"Besides," she continued, "you might have remembered that I wanted
Blanche to have a quiet fortnight. Girls at her age are so easily
knocked up by the dissipations of London, and it is very desirable that
she should take the opportunity of a rest now she can get it."

"Pooh! that's all nonsense, Mary, and you know it. Blanche is as
strong as a horse, and no girl enjoys dancing more. Why, she has never
been sick nor sorry since she was a little thing! I'll go bail that
she's none the worse for her first season."

"Oh, very well; of course if you know better than I do, well and good.
A mother is usually supposed to be the best judge of such matters. If
she is regularly knocked up by July, don't forget I raised my voice
against the Commonstone ball."

"No, my dear," replied the Squire, as he composed himself for slumber;
"there is not the slightest probability of my forgetting it, insomuch
as, if such a misfortune should befall the girl, I feel confident th