The Argosy — page 132: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Capriccio. 117 CHAPTER HII. SMILES, My first ball! How well I remember it; the excitement and trepi- dation ; the wonder if I should dance, or be doomed to help swell the ranks of forlorn damsels who stand in a formidable line along the wall, smiling sweetly, though their charms be passed by, and in their secret hearts sadly conscious that, as far as dancing is concerned, they might just as well be in bed and asleep. Aunt Rebecca was far more sanguine in her expectations of enjoy- ment than I was. In her young days she had received a good deal of admiration, and, though she was now over forty, I think the good soul fondly imagined that she would find things just as they had been fifteen years ago. Whilst, in her affection for me, she assured me that I should be ‘a vast success,” and that I should have no lack of partners. I had my doubts ; but, whatever befell, I was confident of enjoying myself, if only as an onlooker; and I feel certain that, when we arrived in the ball-room, no two people looked happier than we did. Indeed, Aunt Rebecca’s face was wreathed in smiles, and she kept tapping my shoulder with her fan, saying delightedly : “To think of it, my dear—to think of it! What would your mother say if she could see us now?” There were a great many beautiful women and young girls; dressed, alas, so differently from me, and looking so much at home and at ease, as though they were quite accustomed to it all, as I suppose they were. I began to feel ashamed of my own simple, old- fashioned garments, and of my boyish curls, and fancied that all these other girls must be talking of and simpering at my rusticity. Some of the gentlemen, too, stared, then whispered together with stolen glances at me, until I was so overcome by shyness and false shame that all my hopes of enjoyment began to fade. “We shall not know anyone here, auntie,” I said at last. ‘‘ Cannot we find a corner in which to hide ourselves? People stare so.” ‘* Now, didn’t I tell you so?” she replied, looking so provokingly happy that I could almost have believed she /zked being stared at. “Hide ourselves? Why, Celia, you are not ashamed of your pretty, simple gown ?” “Oh, no. I amvery happy. I am, indeed,” I answered quickly, _ with some compunction for my foolish self-consciousness. ‘‘I know we could not afford to be better dressed. But——” Well, I need not have cared how I looked, for, after all, it was more than probable that no one took the trouble to notice either me or my clothes. Remembering this, I felt quite happy again, and was soon wrapped up in the, to me, novel sight, when suddenly Aunt COnICOOOKS.E®