But
there was another side to the case; and whether the strange gentleman
were a wild olive tree, or not, it was questionable if the
acquaintance would lead to happiness. 'A fleeting romance and a
possible calamity;' thus it might have been summed up by the
practical.
Margery was in Paradise; and yet she was not at this date distinctly
in love with the stranger. What she felt was something more
mysterious, more of the nature of veneration. As he looked at her
across the stile she spoke timidly, on a subject which had apparently
occupied her long.
'I ought to have a ball-dress, ought I not, sir?'
'Certainly. And you shall have a ball-dress.'
'Really?'
'No doubt of it. I won't do things by halves for my best friend. I
have thought of the ball-dress, and of other things also.'
'And is my dancing good enough?'
'Quite--quite.' He paused, lapsed into thought, and looked at her.
'Margery,' he said, 'do you trust yourself unreservedly to me?'
'O yes, sir,' she replied brightly; 'if I am not too much trouble:
if I am good enough to be seen in your society.'
The Baron laughed in a peculiar way. 'Really, I think you may assume
as much as that.--However, to business. The ball is on the twenty-
fifth, that is next Thursday week; and the only difficulty about the
dress is the size.
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