"I am so sorry to hear you are not well, Miss Lovel," he said.
"Thank you, Mr. Granger, but I am really not ill--only too tired to dance
any more."
"So Lady Laura tells me--very much to my regret. I had hoped for the honour
of dancing this quadrille with you."
"If you knew how rarely Mr. Granger dances, you'd consider yourself rather
distinguished, I think, Miss Lovel," said the Captain, laughing.
"Well, no, I don't often dance," replied Mr. Granger, with a shade of
confusion in his manner; "but really, such a ball as this quite inspires a
man--and Lady Laura was good enough to wish me to dance."
He remained by Clarissa's side as they walked back through the rooms. They
were near the door when Miss Granger met them, looking as cold and prim
in her pink crape and pearls as if she had that moment emerged from her
dressing-room.
"Do you know how late it is, papa?" she asked, contemplating her parent
with severe eyes.
"Well, no, one does not think of time upon such an occasion as this. I
suppose it is late; but it would not do for us of the household to desert
before the rest of the company."
"I was thinking of saying good-night," answered Miss Granger. "I don't
suppose any one would miss me, or you either, papa, if we slipped away
quietly; and I am sure you will have one of your headaches to-morrow
morning."
There is no weapon so useful in the hands of a dutiful child as some
chronic complaint of its parent.
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