124 THE MASTER OP THE HOUNDS. 



thoroughly enjoyed this little respite from their almost iacessaiit 

 exertions. 



" Blanche," said Malcolm, " you looked fagged and tired to 

 death already ; and I hope Aunt Gordon will not allow you to 

 dance any more to-night." 



"Oh, nonsense, Charles, I shall be as fresh as ever after 

 supper ; and I have enjoyed this ball so much." 



"Very well, child, as you please; but mind, Beauchamp, 

 you take care of her, and give her half a bottle of champagne, 

 for she looks like a ghost." 



No hint of this sort was necessary, and Beauchamp had the 

 pleasure of seeing the roses return to her cheeks on again 

 entering the ball-room, where they were met by Lord Yan- 

 court and Mrs. Harcourt, who expressed herself much displeased 

 with her niece for having deserted her protection that evening. 

 Blanche quietly replied that she had been sitting with her 

 aunt Gordon during the intervals between the dances. 



" Yery well, my dear, then I expect you will remain with 

 me now until the ball is over ; " and offering her arm, Blanche 

 was obliged to accept it. Lord Yancourt then begged for 

 another dance, to which Blanche replied that she was engaged 

 to Major Hammond, a friend of Captain Melville's. " I don't 

 know him," observed Mrs. Harcourt, "and as he is not here, 

 now the sets are formed, you cannot refuse Lord Yancourt ; " 

 who immediately offered his arm, and walked off with her. 



Her dancing tv/ice with him did not fail to elicit the usual 

 comments, which Mrs. Harcourt was delighted to hear ; and 

 Blanche's timid looks and heightened colour, when addressed 

 by his lordship, led many to draw inferences, the reverse of 

 true, that Lord Yancourt was the favoured man ; and sure, 

 with his title and handsome person, to carry off the heiress. 



" Ah," said Selina Markham, who was dancing with Beau- 

 champ in the same set, " it is really a reflection upon all the 

 young men in the country, to allow that whiskei'ando lord to 

 pounce down, like a great over-grown kite amongst a timid 

 flock of pigeons, and carry off our young heiress ! What are 

 they all thinking of? Even my brother Ned, the lifeguards- 

 man, seems to quail beneath his look, and keejDS saying, *Eh, 

 demmit, but what can a man do ? ' ' Do ? ' I said, ' why, 

 demmit, Ned, pick a quarrel and shoot the fellow ; or lend me 

 the uniform, and I will do it for you.' Poor dear Blanche! 

 with those odious Harcourts, she will be sacrificed, poor child, 

 to that fierce-looking, rat-eyed Bonassus." 



