Chapter: <CHAPTER>
10. HER FIRST BALL.

Exactly when the ball began Leila would have found it hard to say.
Perhaps her first real partner was the cab. It did not matter that she
shared the cab with the Sheridan girls and their brother. She sat back
in her own little corner of it, and the bolster on which her hand rested
felt like the sleeve of an unknown young man's dress suit; and away they
bowled, past waltzing lamp-posts and houses and fences and trees.

"Have you really never been to a ball before, Leila? But, my child, how
too weird--" cried the Sheridan girls.

"Our nearest neighbour was fifteen miles," said Leila softly, gently
opening and shutting her fan.

Oh dear, how hard it was to be indifferent like the others! She tried
not to smile too much; she tried not to care. But every single thing
was so new and exciting... Meg's tuberoses, Jose's long loop of amber,
Laura's little dark head, pushing above her white fur like a flower
through snow. She would remember for ever. It even gave her a pang to
see her cousin Laurie throw away the wisps of tissue paper he pulled
from the fastenings of his new gloves. She would like to have kept those
wisps as a keepsake, as a remembrance. Laurie leaned forward and put his
hand on Laura's knee.

"Look here, darling," he said. "The third and the ninth as usual. Twig?"

Oh, how marvellous to have a brother! In her excitement Leila felt that
if there had been time, if it hadn't been impossible, she couldn't have
helped crying because she was an only child, and no brother had ever
said "Twig?" to her; no sister would ever say, as Meg said to Jose that
moment, "I've never known your hair go up more successfully than it has
to-night!"

But, of course, there was no time. They were at the drill hall already;
there were cabs in front of them and cabs behind. The road was bright on
either side with moving fan-like lights, and on the pavement gay couples
seemed to float through the air; little satin shoes chased each other
like birds.

"Hold on to me, Leila; you'll get lost," said Laura.

"Come on, girls, let's make a dash for it," said Laurie.

Leila put two fingers on Laura's pink velvet cloak, and they were
somehow lifted past the big golden lantern, carried along the passage,
and pushed into the little room marked "Ladies." Here the crowd was so
great there was hardly space to take off their things; the noise was
deafening. Two benches on either side were stacked high with wraps. Two
old women in white aprons ran up and down tossing fresh armfuls.
And everybody was pressing forward trying to get at the little
dressing-table and mirror at the far end.

A great quivering jet of gas lighted the ladies' room. It couldn't wait;
it was dancing already. When the door opened again and there came a
burst of tuning from the drill hall, it leaped almost to the ceiling.

Dark girls, fair girls were patting their hair, tying ribbons again,
tucking handkerchiefs down the fronts of their bodices, smoothing
marble-white gloves. And because they were all laughing it seemed to
Leila that they were all lovely.

"Aren't there any invisible hair-pins?" cried a voice. "How most
extraordinary! I can't see a single invisible hair-pin."

"Powder my back, there's a darling," cried some one else.

"But I must have a needle and cotton. I've torn simply miles and miles
of the frill," wailed a third.

Then, "Pass them along, pass them along!" The straw basket of programmes
was tossed from arm to arm. Darling little pink-and-silver programmes,
with pink pencils and fluffy tassels. Leila's fingers shook as she took
one out of the basket. She wanted to ask some one, "Am I meant to
have one too?" but she had just time to read: "Waltz 3. 'Two, Two in
a Canoe.' Polka 4. 'Making the Feathers Fly,'" when Meg cried, "Ready,
Leila?" and they pressed their way through the crush in the passage
towards the big double doors of the drill hall.

Dancing had not begun yet, but the band had stopped tuning, and the
noise was so great it seemed that when it did begin to play it would
never be heard. Leila, pressing close to Meg, looking over Meg's
shoulder, felt that even the little quivering coloured flags strung
across the ceiling were talking. She quite forgot to be shy; she forgot
how in the middle of dressing she had sat down on the bed with one shoe
off and one shoe on and begged her mother to ring up her cousins and
say she couldn't go after all. And the rush of longing she had had to be
sitting on the veranda of their forsaken up-country home, listening to
the baby owls crying "More pork" in the moonlight, was changed to a rush
of joy so sweet that it was hard to bear alone. She clutched her fan,
and, gazing at the gleaming, golden floor, the azaleas, the lanterns,
the stage at one end with its red carpet and gilt chairs and the band in
a corner, she thought breathlessly, "How heavenly; how simply heavenly!"

All the girls stood grouped together at one side of the doors, the
men at the other, and the chaperones in dark dresses, smiling rather
foolishly, walked with little careful steps over the polished floor
towards the stage.

"This is my little country cousin Leila. Be nice to her. Find her
partners; she's under my wing," said Meg, going up to one girl after
another.

Strange faces smiled at Leila--sweetly, vaguely. Strange voices
answered, "Of course, my dear." But Leila felt the girls didn't really
see her. They were looking towards the men. Why didn't the men begin?
What were they waiting for? There they stood, smoothing their gloves,
patting their glossy hair and smiling among themselves. Then, quite
suddenly, as if they had only just made up their minds that that was
what they had to do, the men came gliding over the parquet. There was a
joyful flutter among the girls. A tall, fair man flew up to Meg, seized
her programme, scribbled something; Meg passed him on to Leila. "May I
have the pleasure?" He ducked and smiled. There came a dark man wearing
an eyeglass, then cousin Laurie with a friend, and Laura with a little
freckled fellow whose tie was crooked. Then quite an old man--fat, with
a big bald patch on his head--took her programme and murmured, "Let me
see, let me see!" And he was a long time comparing his programme,
which looked black with names, with hers. It seemed to give him so much
trouble that Leila was ashamed. "Oh, please don't bother," she said
eagerly. But instead of replying the fat man wrote something, glanced at
her again. "Do I remember this bright little face?" he said softly. "Is
it known to me of yore?" At that moment the band began playing; the fat
man disappeared. He was tossed away on a great wave of music that came
flying over the gleaming floor, breaking the groups up into couples,
scattering them, sending them spinning...

Leila had learned to dance at boarding school. Every Saturday afternoon
the boarders were hurried off to a little corrugated iron mission
hall where Miss Eccles (of London) held her "select" classes. But the
difference between that dusty-smelling hall--with calico texts on the
walls, the poor terrified little woman in a brown velvet toque with
rabbit's ears thumping the cold piano, Miss Eccles poking the girls'
feet with her long white wand--and this was so tremendous that Leila was
sure if her partner didn't come and she had to listen to that marvellous
music and to watch the others sliding, gliding over the golden floor,
she would die at least, or faint, or lift her arms and fly out of one of
those dark windows that showed the stars.

"Ours, I think--" Some one bowed, smiled, and offered her his arm; she
hadn't to die after all. Some one's hand pressed her waist, and she
floated away like a flower that is tossed into a pool.

"Quite a good floor, isn't it?" drawled a faint voice close to her ear.

"I think it's most beautifully slippery," said Leila.

"Pardon!" The faint voice sounded surprised. Leila said it again. And
there was a tiny pause before the voice echoed, "Oh, quite!" and she was
swung round again.

He steered so beautifully. That was the great difference between dancing
with girls and men, Leila decided. Girls banged into each other, and
stamped on each other's feet; the girl who was gentleman always clutched
you so.

The azaleas were separate flowers no longer; they were pink and white
flags streaming by.

"Were you at the Bells' last week?" the voice came again. It sounded
tired. Leila wondered whether she ought to ask him if he would like to
stop.

"No, this is my first dance," said she.

Her partner gave a little gasping laugh. "Oh, I say," he protested.

"Yes, it is really the first dance I've ever been to." Leila was most
fervent. It was such a relief to be able to tell somebody. "You see,
I've lived in the country all my life up till now... "

At that moment the music stopped, and they went to sit on two chairs
against the wall. Leila tucked her pink satin feet under and fanned
herself, while she blissfully watched the other couples passing and
disappearing through the swing doors.

"Enjoying yourself, Leila?" asked Jose, nodding her golden head.

Laura passed and gave her the faintest little wink; it made Leila wonder
for a moment whether she was quite grown up after all. Certainly her
partner did not say very much. He coughed, tucked his handkerchief away,
pulled down his waistcoat, took a minute thread off his sleeve. But
it didn't matter. Almost immediately the band started and her second
partner seemed to spring from the ceiling.

"Floor's not bad," said the new voice. Did one always begin with the
floor? And then, "Were you at the Neaves' on Tuesday?" And again Leila
explained. Perhaps it was a little strange that her partners were not
more interested. For it was thrilling. Her first ball! She was only at
the beginning of everything. It seemed to her that she had never known
what the night was like before. Up till now it had been dark, silent,
beautiful very often--oh yes--but mournful somehow. Solemn. And now it
would never be like that again--it had opened dazzling bright.

"Care for an ice?" said her partner. And they went through the swing
doors, down the passage, to the supper room. Her cheeks burned, she was
fearfully thirsty. How sweet the ices looked on little glass plates and
how cold the frosted spoon was, iced too! And when they came back to
the hall there was the fat man waiting for her by the door. It gave her
quite a shock again to see how old he was; he ought to have been on the
stage with the fathers and mothers. And when Leila compared him with her
other partners he looked shabby. His waistcoat was creased, there was
a button off his glove, his coat looked as if it was dusty with French
chalk.

"Come along, little lady," said the fat man. He scarcely troubled to
clasp her, and they moved away so gently, it was more like walking than
dancing. But he said not a word about the floor. "Your first dance,
isn't it?" he murmured.

"How did you know?"

"Ah," said the fat man, "that's what it is to be old!" He wheezed
faintly as he steered her past an awkward couple. "You see, I've been
doing this kind of thing for the last thirty years."

"Thirty years?" cried Leila. Twelve years before she was born!

"It hardly bears thinking about, does it?" said the fat man gloomily.
Leila looked at his bald head, and she felt quite sorry for him.

"I think it's marvellous to be still going on," she said kindly.

"Kind little lady," said the fat man, and he pressed her a little
closer, and hummed a bar of the waltz. "Of course," he said, "you can't
hope to last anything like as long as that. No-o," said the fat man,
"long before that you'll be sitting up there on the stage, looking on,
in your nice black velvet. And these pretty arms will have turned into
little short fat ones, and you'll beat time with such a different kind
of fan--a black bony one." The fat man seemed to shudder. "And you'll
smile away like the poor old dears up there, and point to your daughter,
and tell the elderly lady next to you how some dreadful man tried to
kiss her at the club ball. And your heart will ache, ache"--the fat
man squeezed her closer still, as if he really was sorry for that
poor heart--"because no one wants to kiss you now. And you'll say how
unpleasant these polished floors are to walk on, how dangerous they are.
Eh, Mademoiselle Twinkletoes?" said the fat man softly.

Leila gave a light little laugh, but she did not feel like laughing. Was
it--could it all be true? It sounded terribly true. Was this first ball
only the beginning of her last ball, after all? At that the music seemed
to change; it sounded sad, sad; it rose upon a great sigh. Oh, how
quickly things changed! Why didn't happiness last for ever? For ever
wasn't a bit too long.

"I want to stop," she said in a breathless voice. The fat man led her to
the door.

"No," she said, "I won't go outside. I won't sit down. I'll just stand
here, thank you." She leaned against the wall, tapping with her foot,
pulling up her gloves and trying to smile. But deep inside her a little
girl threw her pinafore over her head and sobbed. Why had he spoiled it
all?

"I say, you know," said the fat man, "you mustn't take me seriously,
little lady."

"As if I should!" said Leila, tossing her small dark head and sucking
her underlip...

Again the couples paraded. The swing doors opened and shut. Now new
music was given out by the bandmaster. But Leila didn't want to dance
any more. She wanted to be home, or sitting on the veranda listening to
those baby owls. When she looked through the dark windows at the stars,
they had long beams like wings...

But presently a soft, melting, ravishing tune began, and a young man
with curly hair bowed before her. She would have to dance, out of
politeness, until she could find Meg. Very stiffly she walked into
the middle; very haughtily she put her hand on his sleeve. But in one
minute, in one turn, her feet glided, glided. The lights, the azaleas,
the dresses, the pink faces, the velvet chairs, all became one beautiful
flying wheel. And when her next partner bumped her into the fat man
and he said, "Pardon," she smiled at him more radiantly than ever. She
didn't even recognise him again.




</CHAPTER>

 Leila's first ball began in a cab. Running her hand along the upholstery of her seat she imagine it was the sleeve of a young man's dress suit. Sharing the cab with Leila were her cousins, the Sheridans: Meg, Jose, Laura, and their brother Laurie. She watched the siblings interact with one another and wished she had sisters and brothers but she was an only child and had spent most of her life in the country. Leila was truly grateful for their company and yet she tried to hide her excitement from them, believing they would think her undignified if they knew just how excited she was to be attending her first ball. She wanted to remember everything about this night and even considered saving the tissue paper that came with Laurie's new gloves as a keepsake but there was no time. They had arrived at the hall and Leila held on to Meg who led the way through the crowds to the Ladies changing area. Leila was transfixed. She watched the other girls fix their elaborate dresses and arrange their hair. A basket of pink and silver programmes with pink pencils and tassels was passed around. Leila could hardly believe her luck. She and Meg took a programme each and then returned to the hall. The band was preparing to play and the crowd was so loud and boisterous Leila forgot to be nervous. She hardly recalled how just hours before she had sat on her bed with only one shoe on and cried for her mother to call the Sheridans and say she could not attend the ball after all. Leila was glad she had come and watched the scene around her unfold with rapt attention. All of the girls stood on one side of the room and the men another, the dance floor between them. The band began to play upon a stage and the chaperones, mostly mothers and fathers, were dressed in darker hues and walked past the dancers to take their places around the room. Meg introduced Leila to her friends and asked them help Leila find someone to dance with. The girls paid little attention to each other and gazed instead at the men across the room. By some unspoken agreement all of the men sauntered over toward the women and soon Leila's dance programme had been signed by several of the young men. She was ecstatic until a fat older man came over and grabbed her programme. He took such a long time in choosing where to put his name that Leila became embarrassed and tried to persuade him not to sign but he did and promised to see her soon. The first waltz of the evening began and Leila's partner gently led her to the dance floor. He complimented the dance floor and Leila agreed and said, "I think it is most beautifully slippery" . Her partner was briefly taken aback by her answer but then asked if she had been to the Bells' ball the week before and she answered that this was her very first ball and she explained that she had lived in the country until only recently and she never had an opportunity to attend a ball until tonight. Her partner seemed unimpressed and when the music ended he escorted her to sit with a group of other couples and ignored her, although Leila didn't mind. She was having a wonderful time and thought of the many dance classes she attended at her all-girl boarding school and how different it felt to dance with a boy. Jose danced past and asked if Leila was having a good time and before she could answer her second partner took her by the hand and they began to dance. He complemented the quality of the floor and Leila was beginning to wonder if this was how all of her dances would begin. He asked if she had ever been to one of the Neave's dances and she replied that she had not. They danced well together and then, to Leila's delight, they made their way into another room and had ice cream. When she returned to the dance hall the fat man was waiting for her. He took her by the waist and expertly waltzed with her around the room. He asked if this was her first dance and told her he had been going to dance halls for thirty years. Leila did not know what to say other than she thought it was wonderful that he still danced. The fat man laughed at her and said nothing lasts forever and warned her that one day soon she would grow old and her slim arms would turn to fat. She would not be able to dance nor welcome to do so and instead she would sit with the chaperones and watch her own daughter dance and she would wonder where the time had gone and why no one wanted to kiss her anymore. The fat man held Leila uncomfortably close and his words pierced her to the core. Somewhere inside of her a younger Leila threw her dress over her head and began to cry. "Was this first ball only the beginning of the last ball after all?" The ecstatic joy she felt earlier in the evening quickly faded and she told the fat man she needed to rest. They stopped dancing and Leila leaned against the wall and tried not to sob aloud. Seeing her distress, the fat man told her not to take him seriously. She watched him leave and be replaced by her next dance partner but the thrill of the evening was gone. Leila wanted to find her cousins and go home. Everything was spoiled. Yet as her new partner led her through the steps and the music swelled around her, Leila began to forget the fat man's words and soon returned to an earlier state of bliss. Later, when she bumped into the fat man, she did not recognize him.

