e," said Mr. Buckett angrily, but at the same time he
gave his arm to Rachel and led her away. The fag end of some waltz
remained, and he might get a turn with her. People in his hearing had
spoken of her as the belle of the room, and he did not like to lose
his chance. "Oh, Mr. Rowan," said Rachel, looking back as she was
being led away. "I must speak one word to Mr. Rowan." Then she
separated herself, and returning a step or two almost whispered to
her late partner--"You have put me down for ever so many dances. You
must scratch out two or three of them."

"Not one," said he. "An engagement is an engagement."

"Oh, but I really can't."

"Of course I cannot make you, but I will scratch out nothing,--and
forget nothing."

Then she rejoined Mr. Buckett, and was told by him that young Rowan
was not liked in the brewery at all. "We think him conceited, you
know. He pretends to know more than anybody else."

CHAPTER VIII.

AN ACCOUNT OF MRS. TAPPITT'S BALL--CONCLUDED.

It came to be voted by public acclamation that Rachel Ray was the
belle of the evening. I think this was brought about quite as much
by Mrs. Butler Cornbury's powerful influence as by Rachel's beauty.
Mrs. Butler Cornbury having begun the work of chaperon carried it
on heartily, and talked her young friend up to the top of the tree.
Long before supper her card was quite full, but filled in a manner
that was not comfortable to herself,--for she knew that she had made
mistakes. As to those spaces on which the letter R was written, she
kept them very sacred. She was quite resolved that she would not
stand up with him on all those occasions,--that she would omit at
any rate two; but she would accept no one else for those two dances,
not choosing to select any special period for throwing him over. She
endeavoured to explain this when she waltzed with him, shortly before
supper; but her explanation did not come easy, and she wanted all
her attention for the immediate work she had in hand. "If you'd only
give yourself to it a little more eagerly," he said, "you'd waltz
beautifully."

"I shall never do it well," she answered. "I don't suppose I shall
ever try again."

"But you like it?"

"Oh yes; I like it excessively. But one can't do everything that one
likes."

"No; I can't. You won't let me do what I like."

"Don't talk in that way, Mr. Rowan. If you do you'll destroy all my
pleasure. You should let me enjoy it while it lasts." In this wa