Edward Henry Machin first saw daylight on the 27th of May, 1867, in Brougham Street in Bursley, the oldest of the Five Towns. Brougham Street goes down a hill to the canal, and contains a number of potbanks or pottery factories as well as some small houses. The rent for one of these houses was not high -- only about twenty-three pence a week.

Edward Henry's mother (his father was dead) lived by making and washing clothes for fine ladies. She did not often laugh, and if you tried to argue with her, you never got very far. She was a woman of few words, and saved time every day by calling her son Denry, instead of Edward Henry.

Denry did not work hard at school, and boys who were lazy and not very clever usually just found jobs in the potbanks. Luckily, at the age of twelve, he won a place at the best school in Bursley. It happened like this. On the second day of the examination, Denry arrived a little early. As he walked around the examination room, he came to the teacher's desk, where he saw a list of names with the marks for the first day of the examination. The highest possible mark was thirty, but next to his name he saw the number 7. The numbers were written in pencil, and the pencil was on the desk. He picked it up, looked around the empty room, and at the door, and then wrote a 2 in front of the 7. Of course, this was not honest, but how many truly honest schoolboys are there? Denry was no worse than most of them.

Denry did not do well at his new school, but he did not do badly either -- and he was usually very pleased with himself. As he grew older, he continued to think well of himself. He knew that he was made for better things than a job in the potbanks, working with his hands.

When Denry was sixteen, his mother made a very fine dress for Mr Duncalf's sister. Mr Duncalf was the most important lawyer in Bursley. His sister was grateful to Mrs Machin, and so Denry got a job in Mr Duncalf's office. For several years Denry was happy. Then he met the Countess.

The Countess of Chell was a very grand lady. Her husband was one of the richest men in the Five Towns and was the new Mayor of Bursley. The mayor and his wife had decided to have a ball and to invite all the most important people in the town. There were thirty-five thousand people in Bursley, and at least two thousand of these thought that they were important. But only two hundred could dance in the Town Hall.

Three weeks and three days before the ball, Denry was sitting, alone, in Mr Duncalf's office when a tall and pretty young woman walked in. Before Denry could hide the newspaper he was reading, she said "Good morning" in a very friendly way.

"Good morning, madam," answered Denry.

"Is Mr Duncalf in?"

"No, madam. He's at the Town Hall."

"Well, just tell him I called."

"Of course, madam. Nothing I can do?"

She was already turning away, but she turned back and gave him a smile. "Could you give him this list? The other lists are coming to him as well. The invitations must go out by Wednesday."

She was gone. It was the first time Denry had seen the Countess, and she was even more beautiful than her photographs. And so easy to talk to! He started looking at her list of names, and he had a fantastic idea. He could go to the ball himself. The Countess had made a list of people to invite, but she had asked four or five other people for lists as well. She wanted Mr Duncalf to put the lists together and send the invitations. Of course the work was given to Denry, so it was easy to add E. H. Machin to the list. On Wednesday Denry received his invitation, and on Thursday he accepted it.

Denry had never been to a ball. He couldn't dance and he didn't have an evening suit. All the rich young men of Bursley bought their suits at Shillitoe's, so two days later Denry stepped into Shillitoe's shop. "I want you to make me an evening suit," he said to young Shillitoe.

Shillitoe knew Denry and he also knew that Denry did not have enough money to pay for a suit. He replied that he was too busy. "so you're going to the ball, are you?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes," said Denry, "are you?"

Shillitoe shook his head. "I've no time for balls."

Denry looked around the shop, and at the door, and then said, "I can get you an invitation if you like."

Denry got his suit, and two years to pay for it.

One of the best dancing teachers in Bursley was Miss Ruth Earp. Denry learned to dance quickly, but he paid nothing for his lessons. Miss Earp also got an invitation to the ball.

Miss Earp was not beautiful, but she was young and a very good dancer, and at his last lesson Denry asked, "Will you give me the first dance at the ball?"

Ruth Earp thought for a minute, and then said yes.

It took Denry two hours to get ready for the ball, and he arrived a little late. He walked up the beautiful double staircase into the ballroom and looked for Ruth. When he found her, he asked, "What about that first dance?"

"It's nearly finished," she answered, coldly.

"I'm awfully sorry. Can we finish it?"

"No!" she said, and walked away.

She was angry with him, and Denry did not know what to say. But she was only at the ball, he thought, because he had got her invitation for her!

He joined a group of young men who were watching the dancing. Harold Etches, who was one of the richest young men in the Five Towns, was there, with two or three of the Swetnam boys, and Shillitoe. At first Denry did not say anything. They all knew, of course, that he was Mr Duncalf's office worker and the son of a washer-woman, but all young men -- rich or poor -- look the same in evening suits.

The conversation in the group was about the Countess. All the important older men in the town were standing around her, but she was not dancing. Perhaps she didn't want to, but perhaps they were all afraid to ask.

"Why doesn't someone ask her to dance?" asked Denry suddenly.

"Why don't you?" said Shillitoe. "It's a free country."

"Perhaps I will," Denry said.

Harold Etches looked at Denry for a moment. "You won't ask her," he said. Then he smiled, not very pleasantly. "I'll give you five pounds if you do."

"All right," said Denry, and quickly walked away.

"She can't eat me! She can't eat me!" he said to himself as he walked towards the Countess. The men were still around her and one of them, Denry saw, was Mr Duncalf. Denry was sorry about this because Mr Duncalf didn't know, of course, that Denry was coming to the ball.

Suddenly he found himself standing in front of the Countess, and immediately he forgot all the fine, polite words that Ruth Earp had taught him.

"Could I have this dance with you?" he said quickly, but smiling and showing his teeth. ("I've won that fiver, Mr Etches!" he said to himself.)

The Countess had to accept. She could see that everyone else was afraid to ask -- and she did want to dance! So they danced together, and all the men of Bursley watched with open mouths. Denry managed to dance well most of the time, although once they nearly hit two other dancers. When the music stopped, the Countess looked at Denry and saw that he was really just a boy.

"You dance well!" she said, smiling almost like an aunt.

"Do I?" he smiled back. "It's the first time I've ever danced, except in a lesson."

"Really? You pick things up easily, I suppose."

"Yes," he said. "Do you?"

Something in Denry's question amused the Countess very much. She put her head back and laughed, and everybody in the room could see that Denry had made the Countess laugh. She was still laughing, and so was he, when he thanked her for the dance.

As she turned away, Denry saw that she had dropped her fan. Quickly, he picked it up and put it in his pocket. Then he walked back to the group of young men.

"Here you are!" said Harold Etches, giving Denry a five-pound note.

Denry just smiled, and put the note in his pocket. He could see in the faces of the young men around him that he was suddenly famous. He was no longer just the son of a washer-woman; he was the man who had first danced with the Countess.

"Just the same as dancing with any other woman," he said, when Shillitoe asked him what it was like.

"What was she laughing at?" someone asked.

"Ah!" said Denry. "I can't tell you that."

This was not the last time he was asked that question, but he always refused to answer. Many young ladies wanted to dance with him now, after his success with the Countess. Later, he saw Ruth Earp again and danced with her, and with her young friend, Nellie. But he said nothing at all about the Countess's fan in his pocket.

At the end of the ball, just as the Countess was leaving, Denry pushed through the crowd and held out her fan.

"I've just picked it up," he said to the Countess.

"Oh! Thank you so much!" she said. Then she smiled. "You do pick things up easily, don't you?"

And both Denry and the Countess laughed and laughed, but nobody in Bursley knew why.

Denry walked home that night in a dream, thinking about the Countess, Ruth Earp and Nellie, and about the five-pound note in his pocket -- more than he got for a month's work in Mr Duncalf's office.

He was a happy man. But trouble was waiting for him.