Selina had a theory. If she could get a young man to ask her for a dance, she would have some respite from Julia's scheming and demands and overbearing general presence. But it wouldn't do to simply make a run for it and fall into the arms of some ball attendee asking to be saved, of course.
So the next best idea, it seemed to her as Julia droned on and on about how this visit to Sanditon (which had only happened because she had heard that Mr. Malcolm would be coming too) was going to be a great way to make Malcolm jealous by making Selina "unavailable", had been to excuse herself for a refreshment and go hide in the poorest lit of all balconies or porches until the end of the ball.
The trajectory had been simple, Selina had thought when she'd put herself in march, but between the starting point and a poorly lit alcove stood a young man she had never met before who forced her to slow her step and smile politely. "Oh, do forgive me, sir."