Part 16 (1/2)
”I'm afraid it is to me,” he continued in a lower tone, ”I know scarcely a soul here, and declined Edward's invitation to join you on that account.”
”Oh, it is very easy to become acquainted with a sleighing-party.” She greeted the two young ladies on the other side of him, and introduced him to them. They were refined, attractive-looking girls, but they had a fatal defect. They absorbed social heat and light instead of radiating them. It seemed as though they might be saying: ”There, now, you got us into an unpleasant situation by inviting us here, and it's your duty to make us happy; but we're not having a good time at all, and we'd like to know what you're going to do about it.” Allan did the best he could, not half-heartedly, for he was accustomed to do thoroughly whatever he attempted, and his success was marked. Those grave girls, who, heretofore, had always seemed to be haunted by some real or fancied neglect, were in a gale of semi-repressed merriment.
The mirth was infectious, and as the horses flew over the frozen road, the gay jingle of bells mingled happily with the joyous laughter of young voices. Poor Rose, whose natural love for society and capacity for fun-making had induced her to set very pleasant hopes upon this sleigh-ride, found herself, much to her surprise, the only silent one of the company. With Allan's gracefully unconcerned personality on one side, a middle-aged lady of rather severe aspect--the matron of the party--on the other, and just opposite a pair who were very agreeably and entirely engaged _with_ as well as _to_ each other, all means of communication seemed to be hopelessly cut off. It was really very unreasonable for Allan to act in this way. He was saving her the trouble of treating him badly and keeping him at a distance; but, strange to say, there are some disagreeable duties of which one does not wish to be relieved. If it were possible to be overwhelmingly dignified when one is buried shoulder deep in bear and buffalo skins--but that was out of the question.
The clear crystalline day began to be softly shadowed by twilight.
Behind them lay the town, its roofs and spires robed in swan's-down, while on all sides the fallen logs and deep underbrush, the level stubbles and broad irregular hollows, and all the vast sweep of dark evergreen forest, melting away in immeasurable distance, was a dazzling white waste of snow. In the bright moons.h.i.+ne it sparkled as though studded with innumerable stars. Above them was a marvellously brilliant sky.
Suddenly, under a group of trees that stretched their ghostly arms across the roadway, the cavalcade came to a full stop; and Edward, who was driving, looked round with a face of gloomy foreboding at the merrymakers.
”What is the matter?” demanded half-a-dozen voices.
”We shall have to go back,” announced the young man, with a look of forced resignation.
”Go back!” echoed the same voices an octave higher, ”why, what has happened?”
”Nothing, except that Rose ought to take another look at herself in the hall mirror. There is something fatally wrong with her appearance.”
”About which part of my appearance?” demanded the young lady, who was too well acquainted with her brother to be at all surprised or disturbed by anything he could say.
”I don't know, I'm sure. Perhaps its the _tout ensemble_. Yes, that's just what it is.”
”Do drive on, Edward, and don't be ridiculous. It's too cold to discuss even so important a subject as that.”
”I am sure you must be suffering from the cold.” It was Allan who spoke, turning round to her in a tone of quick, low tenderness.
”Not in the least!” Every small emphatic word was keen and hard as a piece of ice. Then, in the white moonlight, she confronted something that made her heart sink, it was the unmistakable look of mental suffering, a look that showed her that he at any rate was suffering from the cold--the sharp stinging cold of a winter whose beginning was pressing bitterly upon them, whose end, so far as they could see, was death.
The mansion of Madame DeBerczy sent out broad shafts of light through its many windows to welcome the latest addition to the brilliant throng already a.s.sembled in its ample interior. Madame herself was superb in a regal-looking gown that became her aristocratic old countenance as a rich setting becomes an antique cameo. Her stately rooms were aglow with immense fire-places, each holding a small cart-load of hissing and crackling wood, the reflected light gleaming brightly from the s.h.i.+ning fire-irons, while a number of bra.s.s sconces--the picturesque chandeliers of the past--polished to the similitude of gold, were softly s.h.i.+mmering overhead. The beautiful English furniture of the last century, artistic yet home-like; the old world cabinets, covered with surface carving, solid yet graceful in appearance; tiles, grave and cheerful in design, set into oaken mantel-pieces; peac.o.c.k coloured screens, and ample crimson curtains, edged with heavy silken borders of gold, all lent their aid to brighten and enrich the rooms that to-night were graced by some of the best society from Upper Canada's; most ambitious little town of York.
Mademoiselle Helene, beautiful in a blush rose gown, with a few star-shaped flowers of the same shade in her silky hair, was the magical living synthesis of this small world of warmth and colour in the eyes of her lover. These eyes were more than usually brilliant from his long ride in the keen air, and the yellow locks upon the smooth white brow were several noticeable inches above the heads of those around him. As he walked down the crowded rooms, in enviable proximity to the blus.h.i.+ng dress, his handsome face and half careless, half military air drew the attention of more than one bright pair of eyes.
”Rather a pretty boy,” commented a pompous-looking gentleman, patronizingly.
”But entirely too fair,” was the disapproving response of the critical young lady beside him, whose own complexion and opinion were certainly free from the undesirable quality she referred to. ”Of course, a pink face is attractive--in a doll.”
”Then the daughter of our hostess escapes the imputation of being doll-like.”
”Oh, she is quite too overgrown for that. It's a pity she has that peculiar complexion through which the blood never shows.”
In another group, an enthusiastic young creature whispered to her mother: ”Mamma, do notice Miss DeBerczy's face; white as a cherry blossom, and her lips the cherries themselves. Isn't she just like a picture?”
”Yes, dear,” drawled mamma, adjusting her eye-gla.s.s with an air of rendering impartial justice, ”like a very ill-painted picture. Why don't she lay on her colours a little more artistically?”
”Oh, she doesn't lay them on, they're natural.”
”Well, Lena, you should not be so quick to notice and comment upon natural defects. Not one of us is free from them, and it is uncharitable and unkind to make them the subject of remark.”
Thus silenced and put in the wrong the young lady ventured nothing further.
”Edward,” said Helene, later in the evening, ”really you ought to dance with somebody else. There are dozens of charming girls here.”
”Which dozen did you wish me to dance with?”