The actual dispatch of invitations, together with the rest of the organization of the event, fell to Elinor’s own lot, and she very much wished she could quietly suppress the cards sent to Mr. and Miss Royden. Of course she could not; quite apart from the fact that her conscience would reproach her with depriving Charlotte of a treat, she was sure that Grenville would make some pointed, teasing inquiry into their absence from the list of guests as the day approached. By now, moreover, they were on terms of such intimacy with the family at Yoxford House that it would indeed have been a surprising omission.For the ball was to be a large one. Elinor knew, from a chance remark of Isabella’s, that Sir Edmund was footing the bill. Pressure of business at the Foreign Office had obliged him to postpone his proposed visit to Bath and Cheltenham until after the occasion, which promised to be a magnificent one. Certainly, no expense was being spared! Gilt chairs were emerging from their holland covers in the ballroom, a seldom used but very magnificent apartment on the first floor of Yoxford House; chandeliers were washed and polished until they sparkled; the walls of the ballroom were to be decked with flowers.
