Part 37 (2/2)
”Of _my_ husband?”
”Mrs. Chichester, I don't think----”
”That's right,” says she, rising and slipping her arm into his.
”Never think; it's about the most foolish thing anyone can do. _I _never think. I only wait; waiting is full of promise.”
CHAPTER XXII.
HOW RYLTON ASKS HIS WIFE TO TREAD A MEASURE WITH HIM, AND HOW THE FATES WEAVE A LITTLE MESH FOR t.i.tA'S PRETTY FEET.
”Will you give me this dance, t.i.ta?” asks Sir Maurice, going up to his wife.
t.i.ta is standing in a recess near the window. The window is wide open, and filled at each corner with giant ferns in pots.
”Ye--es,” says t.i.ta, with hesitation.
”Of course, if you are engaged----”
”That's it, I'm not quite sure.”
Rylton laughs unpleasantly.
”Oh, if you want to give it to somebody else----”
”I don't,” returns t.i.ta calmly. ”You dance better than anyone here, except Tom.”
”Perhaps, then, you wish to reserve it for Tom? I see you have already danced a good deal with Tom.”
”It is such a pleasure to dance with him,” says she enthusiastically.
”One can see how you regard it.”
”What do you mean?” looking at him. ”Have I danced too much with him?
If you imagine----”
”I shouldn't presume to imagine. But this dance, why can't I have it?”
”Well, to tell you the truth, I've lost my card. I can't think what I have done with it.”
”Dropped it, perhaps.”
”No; I _fancy”_--frowning as if trying to remember--”that I gave it to somebody to keep for me.”
”Tom, perhaps,” dryly.
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