I have now to tell you how Molly made her first public appearance at the assembly, and how she delighted and pleased the kindly ladies who formed the company.

It was a crowded gathering. Lord Fylingdale, it was known, would be present. Many gentlemen, therefore, who would otherwise have been at the coffee house, the tavern, or the cockpit, were present in honour of this distinguished visitor, or in the hope of being presented to him. And all the ladies visiting the spa were there as well, young and old, matrons and maids; the latter, perhaps, permitting themselves dreams of greatness.

His lordship arrived brave in apparel, tall, handsome, proud, still in early manhood, wearing his star upon his breast. Every girl's heart beat only to think of the chance should she be able to attract the attention and the passion of such a man. He was accompanied (say, followed) by his secretary, our poet—the only poet that our town has produced. The master of the ceremonies received him with a profound bow, and, after a few words, conducted him to the chair or throne on which sat the Lady Anastasia with a small court around her. Then the music began, and Lord Fylingdale led out that lady for the minuet. And the company stood around in a circle, admiring. He next danced with the young wife of a Norfolk gentleman and member of Parliament, after which he retired and stood apart. Sir Harry followed, dancing twice with a fine show of agility. After him others of lower rank followed. Towards the conclusion of the minuet Molly entered the room, led by her guardian, Captain Crowle, and followed by myself in my new disguise.

The captain was no better dressed than if he were sitting in the Crown Inn, save that he had exchanged his worsted stockings for white silk. He looked what he was—a simple sailor and commander of a ship. But no one regarded him or myself, because all eyes were turned upon Molly.

She appeared before the astonished assembly clothed, so to speak, with diamonds and precious stones, glittering in the light of the candles like a crowd of stars. She was covered with jewels. Diamonds were in her headdress; they were also hanging from her neck; there were rubies and emeralds, sapphires and opals in her necklace and her bracelets; heavy gold chains, light gold chains, gold chains set with pearls were hanging about her. She was clothed, I say, from head to foot with gold and with precious stones.

The intention of the captain was carried out. On her first appearance she proclaimed herself as she stood before them all as an heiress who was able to carry a great fortune upon her back, as the saying is, and to have another great fortune at home. Never before had the company beheld so strange a sight; a girl wearing so much wealth and such splendid jewels for a simple assembly.

Then from lip to lip was passed the words, "Who is she? What is her name? Where does she come from? What is her family? What is the meaning of this resplendent show of gems and gold? Are they real? Why does she wear them?" And for the whole of that evening, while Molly was in the room, no one thought of anything except this wonderful vision of dazzling jewels. The eyes of the whole company followed her about, and in their conversation they talked of nothing else. For, of all things, this was the most unexpected, and, to all the other maidens, the most disconcerting. They were plain country girls, while Molly was a goddess. To say that she outshone them all is to say nothing. There was no comparison possible.

Truly the captain was right. There was no one in that room who could compare with Molly—either for beauty or for bravery of apparel. As for her beauty, it was of the kind the power of which women seem not to understand. Men, who do understand it, call it loveliness. Venus herself—Helen of Troy—Fair Rosamond—Jane Shore—all the fair women of whom we have heard, possessed, I am sure, this loveliness. Your regular beauty of straight features of which so much is made doth never, I think, attract mankind so surely, or so quickly; doth never hold men so strongly; doth never make them so mad with love. It is the woman of the soft eyes, the sweet eyes, the eyes that are sometimes hazel and sometimes blue, the eyes full of light and sunshine, the eyes where Cupid plays; the lips that are always ready to smile; the lips so rosy red; so round and small; the cheek that is like a peach for softness and for bloom, touched with a natural pink and red; the rounded chin; the forehead white and not too large; the light brown hair that is almost flaxen, curling naturally but disposed by art. Such a woman was Molly.

Yet not a weakly thin slip of a girl. She was tall and strong; her arms were round and white as a woman's should be, but they were big as well, as if they could do man's work—they were strengthened and rounded by the oars which she had handled from childhood. Her ample cheek wanted no daub of paint; it had a fine healthy colour, like a damask rose, but more delicate; her eyes were full and bright; there was no girl in the place, not even among the country ladies, could show a face and figure so strong, so finely moulded, of such large and generous charms. When the men gazed upon her they gasped; when the women gazed upon her their hearts sank low with envy.

How am I to describe her dress? I know that her head was made in what they called the English fashion, with a structure of lace, thin wires and round rolls on cushions, with ringlets at the sides and pinned to a small cap on the top.

All I can safely say about her dress is that she wore a gown of cherry-coloured silk, with gold flowers over a petticoat of pink silk adorned by a kind of network of gold lace; that her sleeves were wide with a quantity of lace—I have never carried a cargo of lace, and therefore I know not its value; that her gloves were of white silk; that her arms were loaded with bracelets which clanged and clashed when she moved; and that chains of gold hung round her neck and over her shoulders.

The master of ceremonies received us with distinction.

"Captain Crowle," he said, loudly, "you have too long withheld your lovely ward from the assembly of the spa. I would invite her to dance the last minuet with Mr. Pentecrosse."

All this had been arranged beforehand. The people gazed curiously, and began to press around us as I advanced with Molly's hand in mine.

"Be not abashed, Jack," whispered the old captain. "They know not what to think. Show them how the dance should be done. Slide and sprawl, my lad. Sprawl with a will and both together," he added, hoarsely, "with a yo-heave-ho!"

Then the music began again, and Molly stood opposite to me—and the dance began.

For my own part I obeyed the captain's admonition. I endeavoured to forget the people who were looking on—I tried to think that we were rehearsing in the garden—and feeling confidence return, I began to slide and sprawl with a will.

All the people were gathered round us in a circle. The ladies, holding their fans before their faces, tittered and giggled audibly. The men, for their part, laughed openly, making observations not intended to be good-natured. They were laughing at me! And I was getting on, as I believed, so well. However, I did not know the cause of their merriment, and carried on the sprawling with a greater will than ever.

I am sorry now, whenever I think upon it, that Molly had not a better partner. For my performance, which was quite correct, and in every particular exactly what Mr. Prappet had taught me, was distinguished, I learned afterwards, by a certain exaggeration of gesture due to my desire to be correct, which made the dance ridiculous. If only I had been permitted to give them a hornpipe! What had I, a mere tarpaulin, as they say, to do with fine clothes, fashionable sliding and sprawling, and the pretence of fashionable manners?

You must not think that Molly, though it was her first appearance in public, though she wore these fine things for the first time, though all eyes were upon her, was in the least degree abashed. She bore herself with modesty and an assumed unconsciousness of what people were saying and how they were looking at her, which certainly did her great credit. And I am quite sure that, whatever my own performance, hers was full of grace and ease, and the dignity which makes this dance so fit for great lords and ladies and so unfit for rustic swains and shepherdesses. She smiled upon her partner as sweetly as if we were together in the garden; she played her fan as prettily as if we were rehearsing the dance with mirth and merriment—it was a costly fan, with paintings upon it and a handle set with pearls.

The dance was finished at last, and I led my partner to the end of the room, where the maids sat all in a row with white aprons and white caps—among them Molly's woman, Nigra—to repair any disorder to the head or to the dress caused by the active movements of the dance.

And then they all began to talk. I could hear fragments and whole sentences. They were talking about us.

"Who is she, then?" asked one lady, impatiently. "Where does she come from?"

"Perhaps a sea nymph," replied a gentleman, gallantly, "brought from the ocean by the god Neptune, who stands over yonder. One can smell the seaweed."

"And the gems and chains come, I suppose, from old wrecks."

"Or," said the ancient beau, Sir Harry, "a wood nymph from the train of Diana. In that case the old gentleman may be the god Pan. The nymphs of Diana, it appears, have lately taken lessons in the fashionable dance. As yet, unfortunately——" He shrugged his shoulders.

"I cannot choose but hear, Jack," said Molly. "Let us make as if we heard nothing."

"She is an actress," said another lady. "I saw her last night in the play. She personated an impudent maidservant. The chains and gems are false; one can see that with half an eye. They are what those vagabond folk call stage properties."

Yet another took up the parable. "She should be put to the door, or she should stand in a white apron with the maids. What? We are decent and respectable ladies, I hope."

"They are not gems at all," observed a young fellow, anxious to display his wit. "They are the lamps from the garden. She has cut them down and hung them round herself. See the pretty colours—red—green—blue."

"Let her put them back again, then, and leave the company into which she dares to intrude." This was the spiteful person who had seen her on the stage and knew her for one of the strollers. The resentment of the ladies against a woman who presumed to be more finely dressed than themselves, and to display more jewels than they themselves possessed, or even hoped to possess, was deeper and louder than one could believe possible. Yet this was a polite assembly, and these ladies had learned the manners which we are taught to copy, at a distance—we who are not gentlefolk.

"Jack," said Molly, "these are the flouts of which the captain warned us. Lead me round the room. Right through the middle of them, so that they may see with half an eye how false are my jewels."

I obeyed. They fell back, making a lane for us, and talking about us after we passed through them, without the least affectation of a whisper.

They had an opportunity, however, of seeing the dress and the trappings more closely.

"My dear," said one, "the jewels are real. I am sure they are real. On the stage they wear large glass things. Those are brilliants of the first water in her hair, and those are true pearls about her neck."

"And her dress," said another, "is of the finest silk; and did you see the gold lace in front of her petticoat? The dress and the jewels, they must be worth—oh! worth a whole estate. Who can she be?"

"Such a woman," observed an elderly matron very sweetly, "would probably be ashamed to say where she found those things. Oh! But the master of the ceremonies must be warned. She must not be tolerated here again."

"How kind they are, Jack!" whispered Molly.

"Who is the fellow with her?" I heard next.

"He sells flounders and eels in the market. I have seen him in a blue coat and long white sleeves and an apron."

"No. He is a clerk in a counting-house."

"Not at all. The fellow, like the girl, belongs to the strollers. I saw him last night laying a carpet on the stage."

"A personable fellow, with a well turned leg." This compliment made me blush. "It is his misfortune that he must be coupled with so impudent a baggage."

"You see, Jack," said Molly, "it all comes back to me."

So we went on walking round the room, pretending to hear nothing. We met Victory, also walking round the room with her beau, a young merchant of the town. She, fortunate girl! had no jewels with which to excite the envy, hatred, and malice of the ladies. She was unmolested, though not a gentlewoman by station.

"Molly," she said, "you are splendid. I have never seen such a show of jewels. But you will drive them mad with envy. Hateful creatures! I see them turning green. The minuet was beautiful, my dear. Oh! Jack, you made me laugh. Never was seen such posturing. The men are angry, because they think you meant to make them ridiculous."

Thus may one learn unpalatable truth, even from friends. My "posturing," then, as the girl called it, was ridiculous. And I thought my performance correct, and quite in the style of the highest fashion!

Then the captain joined in. "Famous!" he said. "Jack, you rolled about like a porpoise at the bows. Never believe that a sailor cannot show the way at a dance. Molly, my dear, you were not so brisk as Jack. But it was very well, very well, indeed. The women cannot contain themselves for spite and envy. What did I tell you, my dear?"