As carriage after carriage arrived, Mabel welcomed every new comer, imitating Ida’s manner as well as her overflowing spirits would let her. It was her chief pleasure to tell every friend whom she knew, that she herself was to go in the balloon, to hear this one marvel at her courage, and that one envy her rare fortune,—to feel herself something of a heroine, an object of attention to those around her.
Dr. Bardon was one of the earliest arrivals at Aspendale Lodge. His first question was, “Has the earl come?”
Mabel replied, “Not yet;” and he gave a malicious smile.
“What does the countess say to this?” inquired Mabel; “did she know that you were coming to the Lodge?”
“I can scarcely make out what she knows or does not know, what she likes or does not like,” said the doctor gruffly; “but I suspect she’ll look out for the balloon. The wind, I see, is from the east; ’twill bear you in the direction of Mill Cottage.”
The circle of guests would now have been complete, but for the non-arrival of one. That one was most eagerly watched for. The oft-repeated question, “Has the earl come?” was now exchanged for another, “Will the earl come?” and jests were made, and bets were laid, while every minute that elapsed added to the impatience of the party.
A large concourse of people had gathered in a neighbouring field, drawn from a circuit of many miles to see the ascent of the _Eaglet_. Ayrton had sent its labourers, Pelton its shopboys and mechanics; the ploughman had left his team, and merry farmers’ wives had forsaken their dairies, and come with their children and grandchildren to witness the wonderful sight. The hedge which surrounded Augustine’s meadow was lined and double lined with the eager heads of such spectators as these, while around the balloon itself gathered a brilliant circle of gaily-dressed guests, privileged to occupy a nearer place.
The great striped ball had now been swelled to its utmost dimensions, and swayed gently to and fro, as if luxuriating in the sense of power, only restrained by a number of strong ropes from bursting upwards towards the skies.
“It is like swollen pride,” observed Mabel, “impatient to mount aloft.”
“And puffed out with the idea of its importance, like the fools of this world,” added the doctor; “but,” he continued with a sardonic sneer, “good strong cords of prudence will keep the most aspiring down!”