Part 13 (1/2)

”To a Mr. Reginald Ponsonby--an Englishman settled in Australia somewhere. They were to have been married last summer, but he had business losses. She is perfectly devoted to him. He wrote and offered to release her, but she would not hear of it. She was very much admired; don't you think her pretty?”

”Will you introduce me to Miss Carey? I see Mr. Freeman is coming to ask you for a turn--will you be so kind as to present me first?”

There was a sort of cool determination about this young man which Ada, or any other girl, would have found it hard to resist. She did as she was bid, not ill-pleased at the general stir she excited as she crossed the floor with her two satellites and walked up the platform steps.

”Mrs. Freeman, Miss Morgan, allow me to introduce Mr. Van Voorst. Miss Carey, Mr. Van Voorst;--I think you know my mother and Mrs. Allston.”

And having touched off her train, she whirled away with Robert Freeman, her observation still on the alert.

Mrs. Thorne and Mr. Van Voorst exchanged civilities; Mrs. Allston said Jack was coming soon and would be glad to see him, making room for him at her side.

”No, thank you, Mrs. Allston. Miss Carey, may I have the pleasure of a turn with you?”

”Oh, Mr. Van Voorst! You are quite out of rule--tempting away our chaperons--you should ask some of the young ladies; we did not come here to dance.”

”I shall not dare to ask you, then, Mrs. Allston,” he said, smiling, and offered his arm without another word to Lily. She rose without looking at him, with a quick furtive motion pulled off her left-hand glove--the right was off already--got out of the crowd about her and down the steps, she hardly knew how, and in a moment his arm was around her and they were floating down the long hall. The quartette left behind looked rather blankly at each other.

”Well,” said Mrs. Thorne at last, ”it really is too bad for Lily Carey to come and say she did not mean to dance, and then walk off with Arend Van Voorst, who has not asked another girl here----”

”And in that old gown!” chimed in Mrs. Allston.

”It is certainly very unkind in her to look so well in an old gown,”

said Aunt Sophia; ”it is a dangerous precedent.”

”Oh, auntie!” said Emmeline, who had come up to have her dress adjusted.

”Poor Lily! She has been so very quiet all the winter, never going to anything, it would be too bad if she could not have a little pleasure.”

”Very kind in you, my dear; but I don't see the force of your 'poor Lily.' I shall reserve my pity for poor Mr. Ponsonby--he needs it most.”

It was long since Lily had danced, and as for Mr. Van Voorst, he was, as we have seen, supposed to be above it on so youthful an occasion; but perhaps it was this that gave such a zest, as if they were boy and girl together, to the pleasure of harmonious motion. Round and round again they went, till the dancing ranks grew thinner, and just as the music gave signs of drawing to a close, they pa.s.sed, drawing all eyes, by the doorway. The line of men looking on opened and closed behind them. They had actually gone out to sit on the stairs, leaving a fruitful topic behind them for the buzz of talk between the figures. Eleanor Carey, a pretty girl, and not unlike her sister, bloomed out with added importance from her connection with one who might turn out to be the heroine of a drawing-room scandal.

Meanwhile the two who were the theme of comment sat silent under the palms and ferns. No one knew better when to speak or not to speak than Lily, and her companion was looking at her with a curiously steady and absorbed gaze, to which any words would have been an interruption. It was not ”the old black silk” which attracted his attention, except, perhaps, so far as it formed a background for the beautiful hands that lay folded together on her lap, too carelessly for coquetry. No such motive had influenced Lily when she had pulled off her gloves; it was only that they were not fresh enough to bear close scrutiny; but their absence showed conspicuous on the third finger of her left hand her only ring, a heavy one of rough beaten gold with an odd-looking dark-red stone in it. Not the flutter of a finger betrayed any consciousness as his eye lingered on it; but as he looked abruptly up he caught a glance from under her eyelashes which showed that she had on her part been looking at him. An irresistible flash of merriment was reflected back from face to face.

”What did you say?” she asked.

”I--I beg your pardon, I thought you said something.”

Both laughed like a couple of children; then he rose and offered his arm again, and they turned back to the ballroom.

”Good evening, Jack,” said Miss Lily brightly, holding out her hand to Mr. Allston, who had just come in, and was standing in the doorway.

Jack, taken by surprise, as we all are by the sudden appearance of two people together whom we have never a.s.sociated in our minds, looked shy and confused, but made a gallant effort to rally, and got through the proper civilities well enough, till just as the couple were again whirling into the ranks, he spoiled it all by asking with an awkward stammer in his voice:

”How's--how's Mr. Ponsonby?”

”Very well, when I last heard,” Lily flung back over her shoulder, in her clearest tone and with a laugh, soft, but heard by both men.

”What are you laughing at?” asked her partner.

”At the recollection of my copy-book--was not yours amusing?”

”I dare say it was, if it was the same as yours.”