Godfrey Percy, who, as he passed, could not avoid hearing this invitation,
did not stay to learn Buckhurst's answer, but went instantly into the room.
No one, not even the gentleman whose whisper had occasioned it, had the
least suspicion of the real cause of Miss Hauton's indisposition. Lady
Oldborough had assigned as the occasion of the young lady's illness "the
heat of the room," and an old medical dowager was eager to establish that
"it was _owing_ to some strawberry ice, as, to her certain knowledge,
ice, in some shape or other, was the cause of most of the mischief in the
world."

Whilst the partizans of heat and ice were still battling, and whilst the
dancers had quite forgotten Miss Hauton, and every thing but themselves,
the young lady returned to the room. Godfrey went to order Mrs. Percy's
carriage, and the Percy family left the ball.

When Godfrey found himself in the carriage with his own family, he began
eagerly to talk of Miss Hauton; he was anxious to know what all and each
thought of her, in general, and in particular: he talked so much of her,
and seemed so much surprised that any body could wish to talk or think of
any thing else, that Mrs. Percy could not help smiling. Mr. Percy, leaning
back in the carriage, said that he felt inclined to sleep.

"To sleep!" repeated Godfrey: "is it possible that you can be sleepy, sir?"

"Very possible, my dear son--it is past four o'clock, I believe."

Godfrey was silent for some minutes, and he began to think over every word
and look that had passed between him and Miss Hauton. He had been only
amused with her conversation, and charmed by her grace and beauty in the
beginning of the evening; but the sensibility she had afterwards shown had