"He has tried me so, Earle," she said, gently. "Before I can enjoy myself again, I must go somewhere and rest for a few minutes. Where shall we go?"
Earle silently placed the little white hand on his arm, and led the way to a brilliantly-lighted conservatory, where the rippling of the fountain mingled with the songs of tamed birds. There was no one else in that spacious fragrant place. He drew a chair to one of the fountains and placed her in it. She drew a deep breath of unutterable relief, as one who had passed through mortal peril and escaped it. Looking at her, Earle saw that her beautiful face was ghastly white; the eyes she raised to him were dim and shadowed with horror.
"Earle," she said, with a faint attempt at a smile, "I do not look much like the belle of the ball now, do I?"
He was full of concern.
"Not much," he replied. "What is the matter, darling?—what has made you ill? I have thought so often lately that you looked ill and unlike yourself."
She tried to smile, but the expression on her face belied the smile.
"I never did faint in my life," she said—"it is an achievement quite beyond me—but I feel much inclined to do the deed now. Earle, fetch some brandy for me."
"Brandy!" he repeated. "Wine would be better, my darling; brandy is very strong."
"Wine tastes like water," she said. "I want something that is all fire—all fire! to make me strong. Be quick, Earle—be quick! I have to dance with Prince Poermal before supper. I would not be seen looking like this for all the wide world!"
"I do not like leaving you alone," said Earle.