Except for the shaking up and the fright, none of the party was injured, and when the door was opened all scrambled hastily out. Nothing would induce them to intrust themselves again to the carriage and the reckless Archambaud, and though the rain was falling heavily they preferred to walk over the muddy road to Dead wood. They had nearly a mile to go, and it was especially hard for Madame Bertrand, whose baby would not be carried.
Betsy, though she knew that she herself probably looked equally absurd, could not help laughing when she saw Madame Bertrand arrayed in one of Mrs. Balcombe's dresses, half a yard too short and small in every way, which she had to borrow while her own clothes were drying.
But the ball itself was pleasant and all felt repaid for going, even though they had to walk home in the mist.
The next morning, as ever, Betsy was the victim of Napoleon's raillery.
"So you had a good time last evening, Mees Betsy. I hear you danced very well and looked well, and might have been Baroness Stunner's younger sister, you looked so much like her."
