"Their business," said Miss Gaymer with a sudden return to her usual manner, "is to do what I tell them! Run, Hughie. Don"t say a word about the poor kid not having been able to get partners, will you? Say she came late--anything! You understand?"

Hughie nodded.

"I understand," he said. "She came late, and you have a headache. Those are the two essential facts of the case--eh?"

"Yes. Hurry!" said Joan, giving her guardian a push.

"Joey," said Hughie, "you"re a brick!"

Half an hour later the members of the Midfield Hunt Ball were electrified to behold Miss Joan Gaymer sitting between two comatose and famished chaperons, watching the dancers with indulgent eye, and generally presenting the appearance of one whose time for these follies is overpast.

Then heads began to turn in another direction. People were asking one another who the little thing with the forget-me-nots might be, who danced like a fairy, and appeared to have made a "corner" in all Miss Gaymer"s usual admirers. Had her appearance anything to do with Miss Gaymer"s retirement? A case of pique--eh? Heads wagged sagely, and eyebrows were elevated. Poor Joan! Like all the great ones of the earth, she had her detractors.

Sylvia herself was lost in the clouds by this time. When not engaged in obeying Joan"s mandate to dance the soles of her slippers through, she was granting interviews to obsequious young men, who surged round in respectful platoons and hoped that, though disappointed on this occasion, they might have the pleasure at the County Bachelors" on Thursday fortnight.

Never was there such a triumph. The girl, radiant and fluttering, smiled and blushed and wrote down hopeless hieroglyphics on the back of her programme, while Miss Joan Gaymer, the deposed, the eclipsed, sat contentedly by and realised to the full the truth of her own dictum that all Sylvia Tarrant wanted was a start.

Later in the evening the watchful eye of Hughie Marrable detected the fact that Joan had disappeared from amid the concourse of matrons, and he speculated as to where she might be. He himself was enjoying a brief period of freedom, his partner for the moment having pleaded urgent private repairs and vanished to the regions above, and the idea had struck him that Joan might be going supperless.

A brief scrutiny informed him that she was neither in the ballroom nor the supper-room. Then an inspiration seized him. Waiting for a comparatively quiet moment, he paid a hasty visit to the latter apartment, and having levied a contribution upon the side-table, slipped furtively round the big screen and down the dark pa.s.sage.

His instincts had not failed him. Miss Joan Gaymer was sitting peacefully upon the roll of red carpet. Her head was lying back against the wall, and the rays of the dusty electric light glinted upon her coppery hair. Her eyes were closed, but she opened them at Hughie"s approach, blinking like a sleepy Dryad.

"Hallo, Hughie!" she observed. "You nearly won a pair of gloves that time. Long evening, this!"

Hughie began to deposit articles on the floor.

"Supper," he observed briefly.

He laid out a plate of mayonnaise, another of trifle, a bottle about half-full of champagne, and a tumbler.

"Hughie," said Joan, "you"re the only real friend I have in the world! I was nearly _crying_ for something to eat. That, and seeing other people dance and not me. Hughie, it was simply awful! I had no idea: if I had sat there much longer I should have burst into tears. I"d forgotten, too, that by giving away all my partners I was giving away my supper. If I"d remembered I would have kept just one--a little one. But never mind, now: the plague is stayed. I owe you one for this. How did you manage to carry all those things?"

"Large hands," said Hughie. "Half a minute!"

He produced from his tail-pocket two forks, a napkin, and a bottle of soda-water.

"I remembered you liked your drink diluted," he said, pouring out both bottles at once. "I noticed it at dinner, the other night."

"Hughie, you"re a dear!" said Joan impulsively.

"Say when!" remarked Hughie unsteadily.

It was five o"clock in the morning. The band had played "Whisper and I shall hear," followed by "John Peel," followed by "G.o.d save the King,"

followed by "John Peel," once more, followed by "G.o.d save the King"

again, and the musicians were now putting away their instruments with an air of finality which intimated that in their humble opinion the Midfield Hunt Ball had had its money"s worth.

The Manors party, all twelve of them, were being scientifically packed into an omnibus constructed to seat ten uncomfortably, and Joan was waiting her turn in the portico. At this moment Sylvia Tarrant, followed by a slightly sheepish brother, came down the steps. Her cheeks were excessively pink and her eyes blazed.

She saw Joan, and stopped.

"I was afraid I was going to miss you," she said. "Good-night!"

"Good-night!" said Joan.

The little girl--she was a head shorter than Joan--placed her hands upon her new friend"s shoulders, and stood on tiptoe.

"I should like to kiss you," she said shyly.

"Oh, my dear!" said Joan, quite fl.u.s.tered. "Of course--if you like.

There!"

She was unusually silent all the way home, and when they reached Manors said good-night to Mrs. Leroy and flitted upstairs to her room. The rest of the party dispersed ten minutes later, and Hughie was left alone with his host and hostess.

"I have never known that child have a headache before," said Mrs. Leroy rather anxiously, as Hughie lighted her candle. "I hope there"s nothing wrong."

"She"s as right as rain," said Hughie. "She gave up all her partners--every man Jack of them--I mean--I"m sorry! I don"t think she meant me to tell--"

"You may as well finish now," said Mrs. Leroy composedly.

Hughie did so. Mrs. Leroy nodded.

"It was like her," she said softly, "especially telling you to keep quiet about it. A good many women might have given up their dances, but very few could have resisted the temptation to make capital out of their generosity. Never tell me again, miserable creature," she continued, turning suddenly upon her comatose spouse, "that a woman is incapable of doing a good turn to another woman!"

"Cert"nly, m"dear," replied Captain Leroy, making a desperate effort to close his mouth and open his eyes.

"But of course," broke in Hughie unexpectedly, "there are precious few women like Joey."

Then he bit his lip, and turned a dusky red.

Mrs. Leroy, being a woman, took no outward notice, but her husband, who was a plain creature, turned and regarded his guest with undisguised interest.

"What _ho_!" he remarked, wagging his sleepy head.

"Good-night, old man!" said Hughie hurriedly.

CHAPTER XIV

BUSINESS ONLY

Next morning Hughie made Miss Joan Gaymer a proposal of marriage.