She refused to say
that she was better; she had never been ill; it was a mere fad of the
doctor and her sisters; she supposed they were tired of her and wanted
a little peace. However, she continued to absorb large quantities of
strengthening food, beef tea, meat jelly and heady tonic, for she
loved food, and she was determined to go to the ball.
This was on New Year's Eve, and all that day, from the moment when
Susan drew the curtains and brought the early tea, there was an
atmosphere of excitement in Nelson Lodge and Henrietta permitted
herself to enjoy it. Francis Sales was to be at the ball. She forgot
the threatened exile, she ignored Charles Batty's tiresome insistence
that she must dance with him twice as many times as with anybody else,
because he was engaged to her.
'I don't believe you can dance a bit,' she cried.
'I can get round,' he said. 'It's the noise of the band that upsets
me--jingle, jingle, bang, bang! But we can sit out when we can't bear
it any longer.'
'That would be very amusing,' Henrietta said.
Susan, drawing Henrietta's curtains, remarked that it was a nice day
for the ball and then, looking severely at Henrietta and arranging a
wrap round her shoulders, she said, 'I suppose Miss Caroline is
going.'
'Oh, I hope so,' Henrietta said. 'She's not worse, is she?'
'Not that I know of, Miss Henrietta, but I'm afraid it will be the
death of her.' She seemed to think it would be Henrietta's fault and,
in the kitchen, she told Cook that, but for Miss Henrietta, the
Battys, who were close-fisted people--you had only to look at Mr.
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