"Well, my charmer," and the kiss and embrace were given.
"You naughty man, but I do really need some extra support for my spinal column, and it's awfully pleasant, but dear Grundy won't allow it, so we must wait for our waltz."
And the pair hurried along the corridors and took their places at the head of the room, and the ball was opened.
Col. Haughton, as we are aware, had demanded an explanation of the words of Blanche from Sir Tilton. The rooms had been deserted, save by those to whom a dish of gossip was as the essence of life, and who now listened with itching ears to Sir Tilton's reply, while they tried to remember the extent of the eccentric little bride's wealth. Whether she would buy a house in town; nearly all deciding that they would patronize or cultivate her.
"She is outree and bad form, but she has the dollar and she'll be game for those who havn't," said a London beau to Chancer, who hadn't gone to the ball-room, but was eating his heart out in feverish impatience for his waltz (the third dance on the programme) with Vaura.
"Sorry you didn't like it, Colonel, but Blanche would have our marriage private." He did not add that he said no word to dissuade her; as the Jews would have none of him, and his friends had buttoned up their pockets telling him "to wipe out old scores first."
As it was, wife, trip, special license and all that had cost him not a sou, except the ring, and his freedom, which he considered ample equivalent.
"Yes; it's all my fault, Colonel; but you are too awfully nice to be angry with a bride, you know; and besides," she added in a stage whisper, the pink eyes peering about, a childish look of anxiety coming to the wee white face, as if to protect herself against listeners who would carry her words to Madame in reality; aching to see some of her step-mother's pets within earshot, to be sure her words would carry.
Fire away, little one, 'tis an ancient war you are waging of woman versus woman; make your bullets; many are by who will pelt with true aim.
"And besides, Colonel, Mrs. Haughton is so fond of Sir Tilton she would never, no, never, have let me have him, so I let him make love to her up to the very last, and she—"