"But whether she came as a faint perfume,
Or whether a spirit in stole of white,
I feel, as I pass from the darkened room,
She has been with my soul to-night!"
CHAPTER VIII.
AN ARRIVAL AND A MEETING.
When Mr. Tremain entered the drawing-room later in the evening, he was at once conscious of Patricia's presence. It did not require the practical use of his eyes to assure himself of the fact, for to him the room and the company were permeated with her personality.
It had always been so with Patricia. When she entered an assembly she drew to herself all the light and vivacity and beauty of the scene; and the homage which was always immediately accorded her, seemed but a fitting tribute to her fascinations.
Other women, by far more beautiful, paled before the witchery of her face; other wits, whose slightest expression was a bon-mot, faded into insignificance when she entered the lists.
And yet she was neither very beautiful, nor very spirituelle; but she possessed in a rare degree that nameless something, that charm of presence, of voice, of manner, which is unconquerable because intangible, and against which it is worse than useless to resist. It is a dangerous attribute, and heavy is the responsibility of those who possess it; it may lead them and others to the highest feats of heroic sacrifice, and it may doom them to the lowest depths of the woe that is eternal.
Philip, as he crossed the room, looked not so much for Patricia herself, but rather to where the black coats gathered thickest, and the tinkling sound of gay laughter and careless persiflage waxed loudest; there he knew he should find Miss Hildreth, for was she not the candle about which the silly moths gathered eagerly, glad to singe their humble wings, or even spend their lives, if only once the flame of her brilliancy might rest upon them, and lift them for a moment from the dull round of commonplace?
The seal she affected was indeed a typical one, he thought, as he moved towards her with a slight smile upon his lips, his face still pale from his recent emotion; and was he any better than his fellows? Were not his unwilling feet moving towards her, drawn as the needle to the magnet? Was not his heart beating tumultuously at the thought of holding her hand in his once more? Was he not, in fact, the silliest of all human moths, since he, who knew by experience the cruelty of that flame, yet sought it wantonly, glad to bask again for a brief half-hour in its baleful light? As he came close to where sat Miss Hildreth, a queen of a mimic court, the knot of adorers and worshippers fell back, and accorded him, as of a right, a free passage to the lady of their allegiance. In a moment the hum of general conversation ceased; even Mrs. Newbold, who had watched his entrance with only half-suppressed excitement, felt the words die upon her lips, while Miss James made no pretence of even listening to her cavalier as she noted with flashing eyes and sullen heart the meeting of these whilom lovers, and Dick Darling, with sympathy written on every line of her fresh young face, laid an impetuous hand on Jack Howard's arm, drawing him a step or two nearer the charmed circle. Thus watched by every eye, and almost in total silence, Mr. Tremain bowed low before Patricia, holding out his hand, as he said in his most deferential tones: