"A propos, Mr. Tremenhere!" cried Lady Dora. "I have not yet chosen my domino; until this moment I had forgotten it. Madame —— had promised to have two or three for my choice, completed this afternoon. We will, if you please, leave 'Diane' for to-day," and she rose.
"With regret, then, Lady Dora; but where so grave an occupation calls you, I must submit;" and with a few constrained words they parted. Parting is very awkward, where two persons have been trying their wings together in a flight of love; one or the other is sure to lose some feathers in endeavouring to smooth them down into sober propriety at the last moment. Tremenhere was perfectly calm, and all a mamma like Lady Ripley might wish to see him. Lady Dora blushed—half held out her hand—half withdrew it.
"Permit me to fasten your glove, Lady Dora," he said quietly; "I see it embarrasses you."
She held it towards him, colouring deeply. Scarcely touching the hand, he buttoned it; and, bowing with perfect ease, he led the way to the outer door.
"Has the workwoman sent in those dominoes?" asked Madame ——, of her forewoman, that afternoon.
"No."
"Then send directly, and say they must come in at once; for cette belle Anglaise Milady Dora Vaughan, is coming to select one of them, and Milady Lysson, and several others, who are going en cachette to a bal de l'opera, this evening."
This message was given to the workwoman; and Minnie's pale fingers trembled violently as she finished off the last hood, for she was the workwoman, in her little, sad garret!