"I am visible any time after two," said Lady Amelie. Not for any amount of love or homage would she forego her comforts. Then it seemed to him that the world stopped until two the next day. He went back to the ballroom, but its beauty had all departed—there was no soul in the music, no fragrance in the flowers.
"Colonel," he said, "I have had quite enough of the ball. Are you ready for home?"
The colonel, who was quite satisfied with the result of the night's work, declared that he also was ready, and they went.
"A very pleasant ball," remarked the diplomatist, as they drove home.
"Was it?" said Basil dreamily. "I did not notice much—the only part of it I enjoyed was the conversation I had with Lady Lisle. Ah, colonel, if the ladies of the present day resembled her, there would be some hope for chivalry."
"God forbid," thought the colonel to himself. Aloud he replied: "Yes, she is a very beautiful and most accomplished woman."
"She is more than that; she has a touch of genius and fire and poetry. I have met no one like her."
"I can only hope," thought Colonel Mostyn, "he will not take the disease too severely. I want a difference, but I do not care to have a case of raving love and madness on my hands."
At breakfast time the next morning, Colonel Mostyn was pleased to see that, for the first time, Basil eagerly opened the papers and spoke anxiously of the evening engagements.
"Better rest at home, tonight," said the colonel; "you were out last evening, and going out much tires you, I know. What do you say to a quiet game at chess?"