My real records now are public; the Charity Ball last night added a
brilliant chapter.
The Charity Ball! How calmly I write that! I hope it may be the last
triumph I need to win in public without Ned; but I enjoyed it. There was
no awkward John to spoil my dancing, no jealous Milly, no over-anxious
Aunt. I had Mrs. Marmaduke Van Dam for my chaperon--more the great lady,
with all her thin rigidity, than Mrs. Henry; and for companion the
General, almost as young and light-hearted as I.
And I was mistress of myself, strong and self-contained. Instead of being
confused when all eyes were bent upon me, I had a new feeling of glad
self-command. I felt the rhythm of my flawless beauty, my pure harmonies
of face and form, and found it natural that fine toilets should be foils
to my cheap white dress, and that I should be the centre around which the
great assembly revolved. I'm really getting used to myself.
I danced constantly, danced myself tired, holding warm at my heart this
one thought: that in the morning Ned would read of my triumphs and be
proud of them, and rejoice because she about whom the whole city is
talking thinks only of him.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233