Meantime another kind of conversation was going on, which we could not hear.

"My lord," the poet bustled up, with his cringing familiarity. "Yonder is the heiress of whom I spoke."

"Humph! She is well enough for a rustical beauty. Her shape is good, if too full for the fashion; her cheeks bespeak the dairy, and her shoulders tell of the milking pail. Why does she wear as many jewels and charms as an antiquated duchess at a coronation? I suppose they are real. But there are too many of them."

"They are real. I would vouch for them, my lord," he added earnestly. "All that I have told you is most true. A greater heiress you will not find in the whole country. Even with the jewels upon her she could buy up all the women in the room."

"I would make sure upon that point. They say that she has ships, lands——"

"And money. Accumulations. My lord, if you will not take my word for it—why should you?—ask her guardian. There he stands."

"The old salt now beside her, like a Cerberus of the quarter-deck? Who is the other—the fellow who danced with her—his actions like those of a graceful elephant? Is he one of her lovers?"

"She has no lovers. Her guardian permits none. The young lady has been kept in the house. That man is her servant; he is nothing but a mate in one of her ships. Captain Crowle would not allow a fellow of that position to make love to his ward."

"Humph!" said his lordship. "Bring the old man here."

The captain obeyed the summons somewhat abashed. But my lord put him at his ease. "You may retire, Mr. Semple. I would converse with Captain Crowle." Then he turned to the captain with the greatest affability.

"Our good friend, Mr. Semple, tells me, captain, that yonder beauty—the toast, if I mistake not, of our young gentleman to-night—is none other than your ward."

"At your service, my lord."

"Nay, captain. It is I who should be at her service. Frankly, she does honour to your town. Had we discovered Miss Molly there would have been no need to discuss the magical waters of the spa. May I inquire into the name and conditions of her family?"

"As for her name, sir, it is plain Molly Miller. As for her parentage, her father was a ship owner and a merchant. Though a citizen and a free man of Lynn, he was as substantial a man as may be found in the port of London. Her mother, my first cousin, was the daughter and the granddaughter and the sister and the cousin of men who have been captains in the merchant service of Lynn—for many generations. Most of them lie at the bottom of the sea. We are plain folk, my lord, and homely. But Providence hath thought fit to bless our handiwork, and—you see my ward before you—I hope she does not shame the company?"

"On the contrary, Captain Crowle, she adorns and beautifies the company not only with her good looks, which are singular and extraordinary, but also with her fine dress and her jewels, which have won for her already the envy of every woman in the assembly.

"There are as many jewels in the locker as have come out of it for to-night," said the captain sturdily.

"Ay? Ay? And there are ships, I hear—many ships. Our friend Mr. Semple speaks of the lady's wealth with as much respect as he speaks of her beauty."

"He well may—Molly is the greatest shipowner of Lynn. She is also owner of many houses in the town and of many broad acres outside the town. And she will have, when she marries, in addition, a fortune of many thousand pounds."

"She is, then, indeed, an heiress. I wish her, for your sake, Captain Crowle, a worthy husband. But it is a grave responsibility. There are hawks about always looking for a rich wife—to restore fortunes battered by evil courses. You must take care, Captain Crowle."

"I mean to take care."

"Perhaps among the merchants of this port." The captain shook his head.

"Or among the gentlemen of Norfolk." The captain shook his head.

"They drink too hard—and they live too hard."

"Perhaps among the scholars and divines of Cambridge."

"They are not fit mates for a lively girl."

"Captain, I perceive that you are difficult to please. Even for your charming ward you must not expect a miracle in the creation of a new Adam fit for this new Eve. Be reasonable, Captain Crowle." His lordship spoke so pleasantly and laughed with so much good nature that the captain was encouraged, and spoke out his mind as to an old friend.

"No, no, I want no miracle. I desire that my girl, who is a loving girl, with a heart of gold, should be wooed and married by a gentleman whom she will respect and honour—not a drinker nor a gambler nor a profligate. She will bring him a fortune which is great even for persons of quality."

My lord bowed gravely. "You are right, Captain Crowle, to entertain these opinions. Do not change them under any temptations. One would only wish that the lady may find such a mate. But, captain, remember—I say it not in an unfriendly spirit—class weds with class. Sir, they are about to begin the country dance, let us look on."

The company began to take their places.

"Captain Crowle," Lord Fylingdale pointed to the dancers, repeating his words: "Class weds with class—class dances with class. At the head of the set stands Sir Harry the Evergreen. His partner is a lady of good family. Next to them are others of good family. Those young people who are now taking their places lower down are—— What are they?"

"Two of them are the daughters of the doctor and the vicar—good girls both."

"Good girls, doubtless. But, Captain Crowle, not gentlefolk, and there, I observe, your lovely ward, Captain Crowle, takes her place modestly and last of all. Who dances with her?"

"It is young John Pentecrosse, son of our schoolmaster, mate on board one of Molly's ships. He is her playfellow. They have been together since childhood."

"Perhaps he would be more. Take care, captain—take care." So he turned away as if no longer interested in the girl. But Sam Semple remained behind.

"Sir," he said to the captain, "his lordship took particular notice of your ward. 'Miss Molly,' said my lord, 'is a rustic nymph dressed for the court of Venus. Never before have I seen a face of more heavenly beauty.' Those were his lordship's very words." But Sam Semple was always a ready liar.

"Ay, my lad. They are fine words; but fine words butter no parsnips. 'Class weds with class,' that's what he said to me."

"Surely, captain, with such a face and such a fortune Miss Molly is raised to the rank … say, of countess. Would a coronet satisfy you for your ward? I mean nothing"—here he glanced at the figure of his lordship. "Nothing—of course not—what could I mean? How well a coronet, captain, would become that lovely brow!"

Everybody knows that the country dance should continue until the couple at the bottom have arrived at the top and have had their turn. Everybody knows, too, that the country dance, unlike the minuet, is joined by the whole company, with only so much deference to rank as to give the better sort the highest places at the beginning. They were given this evening to the ladies of the county who could boast of their gentility, and, to do them justice, did boast loudly of it, comparing their own families and that of their husbands with those of other ladies present. It seems to me, indeed, that it is better to have no coat of arms and no grandfathers if the possession leads to so much jealousy, backbiting, and slander. All these ladies, however, united in one point, viz, that of scorn and contempt for those girls of Lynn who ventured to join the assembly or to walk in the gardens. They showed this contempt in many ways, especially by whispering and giggling when one of the natives passed them. "Is it tar that one smells so strong?" if one of the sea captain's daughters was standing near, they would ask. Or "Madam, I think there must be an apothecary's shop in the assembly," if it was the doctor's daughter, Amanda Worship. And at the country dance they refused to take the hand of these girls.

Their greatest possible insult, however, was offered to Molly. It was a good dance tune, played with spirit—the tune they call "Hey go mad!" We moved gradually higher up. At last we stood at the top, and our turn came to end the dance.

Imagine our discomfiture at this point when the whole of these kind ladies and their partners left their places and so broke up the dance. We were left alone at the top, while at the bottom were the other two girls of Lynn, Victory and Amanda, with their partners.

"It's a shame!" cried Victory, aloud. "Do they call these manners?"

"Never mind," said Amanda, also aloud; "it's because you outshine them all, Molly."

But the mischief was done, and the dance was broken up.

Molly flushed crimson. I thought she would say something sharp. Nay, I have known her cuff and box the ear of man or maid for less, and I feared at this moment that she would in like manner avenge the insult. But she restrained herself, and said nothing.

Meantime, the ladies who had committed this breach of polite manners stood together and laughed aloud, pretending some great joke among themselves; but their eyes showed the nature of the joke and this triumph over a woman who, as Amanda said, outshone them all.

"Your turn will come," I said.

"I think, Jack," said my girl, quickly, "that my chair must be waiting. The captain said that I was to go after the first country dance."

But a great surprise awaited her and the ladies who had played her this agreeable and diverting trick, for Lord Fylingdale stepped forward, the people falling back to make way for him. He drew himself up before Molly and made her a profound bow. The captain walked beside him, evidently by invitation.

"Miss Molly," he said loudly, "your worthy guardian has informed me of your name and quality. We wanted, in the company at the spa, to make it complete—the heiress of Lynn. It is fitting that this borough, which is always young and flourishing, should be represented by one graced with so many charms."

Molly curtsied with more dignity than one could have expected. See what a dancing master can effect in a fortnight. "Your lordship," she said, "does me too much honour. The reception which I have met with from these ladies had not, I confess, prepared me for your kindness."

"I shall humbly ask the favour of a dance with you, Miss Molly, on the next occasion." The fans were now all agitation; 'twas like a flutter in a dovecot. "We shall see if we shall be deserted when our turn comes." Some of the ladies hid their faces with their fan; some blushed for shame; some bit their lips with vexation; all darted looks of envy and hatred upon the cause of the open rebuke.

"Sir"—Lord Fylingdale turned severely to the master of the ceremonies—"the rules of polite society should be obeyed at Lynn as much as at Bath and Tunbridge Wells. Look to it, sir; I request you."

So saying, he took Molly's hand, and led her to the chair outside.