lady who was the focus of the singing; for, by the time the shutters were
flung open, there was not a young man in the room, lacked he never so
greatly in music or in voice, who did not heartily desire to sing to Miss
Betty Carewe, and who did not now (craning neck over partner's shoulder)
seek to fix her with his glittering eye, while he sang "Oh, believe me"
most directly and conspicuously at her. For that night was the beginning
of Miss Betty's famous career as the belle of Rouen, and was the date from
which strangers were to hear of her as "the beautiful Miss Carewe," until
"beautiful" was left off, visitors to the town being supposed to have
heard at least that much before they came.

There had been much discussion of her, though only one or two had caught
glimpses of her; but most of the gallants appeared to agree with Crailey
Gray, who aired his opinion--in an exceedingly casual way--at the little
club on Main Street. Mr. Gray held that when the daughter of a man as
rich as Bob Carewe was heralded as a beauty the chances were that she
would prove disappointing, and, for his part, he was not even interested
enough to attend and investigate. So he was going down the river in a
canoe and preferred the shyness of bass to that of a girl of eighteen just
from the convent, he said. Tom Vanrevel was not present on the occasion
of these remarks; and the general concurrence with Crailey may be
suspected as a purely verbal one, since, when the evening came, two of the
most enthusiastic dancers and love-makers of the town, the handsome
Tappingham Marsh and that doughty ex-dragoon and Indian fighter, stout old
General Trumble, were upon the field before the enemy appeared; that is to
say, they were in the new ball-room before their host; indeed, the
musicians had not arrived, and Nelson, an aged negro servitor, was engaged
in lighting the house.

The crafty pair had planned this early descent with a view to monopoly by