CHAPTER X.
AT LADY GAYNOR’S BALL.
A month had passed, and the world was beginning to forget that such a person as Sir Harold Annesley had ever existed.
His man of business had closed the park, and dismissed half the servants, and it was the general belief that the eccentric young baronet was masquerading abroad. His actions had been strongly condemned; and many leaders of fashion decided to close their doors to him when he did return home again.
“This wearing of the willow must end,” the Earl of Seabright said to his daughter one morning. “Where is your pride, Elaine? Do you not see that you are an object of pity among the servants and one of contempt among your equals?”
“I do not care for either pity or contempt, papa,” she replied, listlessly.
“But I do!” was the angry retort.
“I do not see how it can affect you, papa.”
“You do not see!” he cried, in surprise. “Great Heavens, are you bereft of common sense? What man will care to marry a woman who is fretting after a lover who shamelessly jilted her?”
“My lover will come back to me,” replied Elaine. “I can marry no other man.”