It is a clear
counterfeit of genuine acumen, and, with a world that knows no better,
gets just as much favor and praise.
During the fifteen minutes that we passed together in Mrs. Hartmann's
cosy morning-room, with our feet on her polished brass fender, we
learned much of one another's hidden selves, that people who had known
us both for years had failed to gather.
I went to supper on Dr. Campbell's arm and gave him a rose from my
bouquet. He saw us to our carriage when we were leaving, and promised
to call on the following Tuesday.
This is a lengthy and tedious summary of my first and last ball.
For I never went to another. What was the use? I was essentially out
of place with my principles about dancing. My step-mother stormed and
raged after the Hartmann's At Home, declaring that I had disgraced
myself and her; that such guests as I, were a burden to a hostess and
an infliction on the rest of the company. All this, along with my own
private conclusions, went far towards helping me to make up my mind,
once for all, that I had gone to my last "dance." And to be candid I
must admit that it was no effort whatever for me to abstain from these
would-be pleasures. They were literally not worth the fuss and trouble
and expense of getting to them. But I went to other gatherings which
were infinitely more enjoyable. I had many another _tete-a-tete_ with
Arthur Campbell before the winter was out. The last attraction before
Parliament closed was a "Musical" at the Merivales.
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