"You are not dancing to-night, Colonel Legard," said Caroline, glancing towards Evelyn. "The more the season for balls advances, the more indolent you become."
Legard muttered a confused reply, one half of which seemed petulant, while the other half was inaudible.
"Not so indolent as you suppose," said his friend. "Legard meditates an excursion sufficient, I hope, to redeem his character in your eyes. It is a long journey, and, what is worse, a very cold journey, to Vienna."
"Vienna! do you think of going to Vienna?" cried Caroline.
"Yes," said Legard. "I hate Paris; any place better than this odious city!" and he moved away.
Evelyn's eyes followed him sadly and gravely. She remained by Lady
Doltimore's side, abstracted and silent for several minutes.
Meanwhile Caroline, turning to Lord Devonport (the friend who had
proposed the Viennese excursion), said, "It is cruel in you to go to
Vienna,—it is doubly cruel to rob Lord Doltimore of his best friend and
Paris of its best waltzer."
"Oh, it is a voluntary offer of Legard's, Lady Doltimore,—believe me, I have used no persuasive arts. But the fact is, that we have been talking of a fair widow, the beauty of Austria, and as proud and as unassailable as Ehrenbreitstein itself. Legard's vanity is piqued; and so—as a professed lady-killer—he intends to see what can be effected by the handsomest Englishman of his time."
Caroline laughed, and new claimants on her notice succeeded to Lord Devonport. It was not till the ladies were waiting their carriage in the shawl-room that Lady Doltimore noticed the paleness and thoughtful brow of Evelyn.
"Are you fatigued or unwell, dear?" she said.