Betty, since her arrival in New York, had
been trained and tutored for the minuet by both Clarissa and Kitty, and
here was Captain Sir John Faulkner, an elderly but gallant beau,
supplicating for the honor of her hand in the opening dance.
"I am loth to decline," began Betty, a little overpowered by the
compliment, "but I have already promised this dance."
"To me," said Geoffrey Yorke, at her side, and looking up, Betty, for
the first time, saw her lover in all the bravery of full uniform,
powdered hair, and costly laces. If he had been strikingly handsome in
the old homespun clothes in which he first appeared before her on the
shores of Great Pond, he was ten times more so now. Betty forgot that
his coat was scarlet, that he represented an odious king and all she
had been taught to despise; she only saw the gallant manly form and
loving eyes which met hers so frankly, and the hand she gave him
trembled as he led her out upon the floor. For Betty did not
know--though the realization came to her later, with bitter tears--
that all unconsciously she had entered that fabled kingdom, the
knowledge of which makes life a mystery, death a glory!
The music swelled on in slow and stately measure; jewels flashed in the
blaze of wax candles, silken brocades rustled a soft accompaniment to
the steps and courtesies of their fair wearers, as Betty dreamed her
dream of happiness, only half aware that she was dreaming.
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