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dances."
    "Let us hope we will be spared that spectacle," said the clergyman. "Now, that man next to her is Mr. Standish. A very fine young fellow, considered one of the handsomest men in England . He has broken a score of hearts, and I daresay will break a score more."
    Anna stiffened. He glanced down at her, but went smoothly on. "He will marry soon, and marry well, for his family always do. And I suppose he will be a good husband within the meaning of the act."
    What did he mean by that?
    "No, I shan't say any more, your years are too tender for me to sully your ears them with that kind of thing. Time enough for scandal when you're a few years older."
    "I never heard anything scandalous about Mr. Standish."
    "Oh, not yet. Scandals really begin once a man is married."
    Anna hit back. "You are a clergyman, sir. I would think that you would uphold the married state, and not make caustic remarks about it."
    "It is precisely because I value the bond of marriage that I do make caustic remarks about those who ignore that bond and stray into the wilder reaches of adultery."
    Was he actually saying that he thought that Mr. Standish would be a philanderer, once he was married? No, he was saying he was already a philanderer and would continue in that way once he was married.
    He was quite mistaken, of course he was.
    "The young lady next to him, she is an interesting creature. Quite beautiful, don't you agree?"
    Anna did not agree, but she said nothing. She sat in silence while the clergyman continued with a flow of easy talk, her head and heart alike confused, his hateful words echoing in her ears.
    A score of broken hearts? Could it be true?
    Was she destined to be one of the score? No, impossible. Mr. Standish loved her, he hadn't loved Amelia Norton or - any of the others? How many others?
    Her heart felt as chilled as the iced pudding that was melting on the plate in front of her.
     
    The ball to which Anna had looked forward with such anticipation was even more distressing and disheartening than the dinner party. She knew she looked well enough, and she was thankful to see, catching sight of herself in one of the gilt framed mirrors that lined the passage leading from the dining room to the ballroom at the rear of the house, that she didn't look as wretched as she felt, and that restored her confidence a little. Then ahead of her she saw the elegant figure of Lady Flavia, and her spirits sank again.
    No, she could not, would not, let that woman spoil her evening. In that kind of company, perhaps Mr. Standish felt he had to be more serious. In the crush of the ballroom with the music and all the atmosphere that accompanied a fashionable ball, he would soon be at her side, asking her to dance.
    But he wasn't, and he didn't. Freddie claimed her hand for the first dance, and then she danced with various other young men. She never wanted for partners, and innate pride and the knowledge that she mustn't show her emotions on a public occasion like this kept a smile on her face and a lightness to her feet. Who would have thought she would ever be thankful that her governess had been so strict about how she should comport herself. She didn't want the pitying stares of any of her friends, nor whispers. She must look as though she were having a wonderful time, and didn't give a fig whether Mr. Standish asked her to dance or not.
    Before this dreadful evening began, she had looked forward to being escorted to the supper room by him. It was not to be: he had stood up for a second dance with Lady Flavia, and she walked to the supper room on his arm.
    Anna knew that Freddie would, inevitably, appear, but to her surprise she found Mr. Vere at her side. He held out an arm, and said with a smile, "Allow me to escort you, Miss Gosforth, I believe you have not yet had supper."
    She could see from the stares of her friends that she had astonished them. Henrietta whispered in her ear as they went past, "Smile, be pleasant to Mr. Vere. You may fancy