As we have said, all drew back from the newcomers, and they entered through an open space, like a king leading in his queen. Mr. Effingham looked round with a cool and easy smile, and led the young girl to a seat near some elderly dowagers in turbans and diamonds, who had enthroned themselves in state to watch their daughters and see that those inexperienced creatures did not give too much encouragement to ineligible personages. As Beatrice sank into one of the red damask chairs, the surrounding chairs suddenly retreated on their rollers, and the turbans agitated themselves indignantly. Mr. Effingham smiled, with his easy, mocking expression, and observing that one of the diamond-decorated dowagers had dropped her fan, picked it up and presented it to her with a bow. The indignant lady turned away her head with a frown.
"Ah," said Mr. Effingham, politely, "I was mistaken."
And fanning himself for a moment negligently, he placed the richly feathered instrument in the hand of Beatrice.
"My fan, if you please, sir," said the owner, suddenly flushing with indignant fire.
"Your fan, madam?" asked Mr. Effingham, with polite surprise.
"Yes, sir! you picked it up, sir!"
"A thousand pardons!" returned the young gentleman, with a courteous smile; "did I?"
"Yes, sir! that is it, sir! In the hands of that—."
"Oh, I understand," returned Mr. Effingham; and with a low inclination to Beatrice, he said, holding out his hand, "Will you permit me?"
The fan was restored by the young girl, just as she had taken it unconsciously, and the dowager received it with the tips of her fingers, as if it had been contaminated. At the same moment the band struck up a minuet, and two couples began to dance.…
