“Did they? Ah, well,—perhaps that was worth while too, for each other.”
It will be seen that the discussions had become of an intimate kind.
Amethyst soon found that her friend did not bear an unblemished character. She had already learned to know that many of the men she met did not. She was told he had broken more than one heart. She smiled, and said she happily had none to break. Una, with insight sorely gained, steadily detested him. But she had no help from Amethyst in her own struggle. Her sister did not understand the hope within her, and so could not sympathise with its downfall. She merely soothed the variations of excited feeling which tried Una’s strength, and would not own that there was any adequate cause for them.
That all the girl’s emotions were violent and morbid was true enough, but Una was engaged in a real battle, and she did not yield herself captive.
For her misfortune, Major Fowler, who had always found her attractive, was caught again by her peculiar looks, and more developed character, and, though he meant nothing more than a renewal of the old sentimental relation between them, he inflicted agony on Una, to whom that relation had been so real a thing.
All the peace of her soul was gone, and as with her all was emotion, the struggle between right and wrong was a struggle between two personal loves. Her prayers seemed all in vain, no image but one haunted her visions, but she never forgot that the love that she believed herself to have lost, was the higher and the better thing; and, as she passed through the tormented weary days, she watched her sister, and wondered what fate Amethyst was preparing for herself.
In the middle of June there was to be a great ball at the Grattans’. Kattern and Tory had been by favour invited to it, and there were many who expected that the announcement of Sir Richard’s engagement would then be formally made. Although the need of fresh costumes was beginning to pinch the Miss Haredales, Amethyst prepared a new and becoming one for the occasion.
The day of the ball had been very hot. Una, as white as her gown, and very unfit for the exertion, was leaning back in a low chair in the open drawing-room window, resting till all the others were ready to go. Kattern, fresh and blooming, stood near her, buttoning the endless buttons of her long gloves. Tory was whisking about the room, and making remarks at intervals.
“I shall keep you in order, Kat,” she said, “you don’t flirt in good style. I shall tell mother to look after you.”
“You know nothing about it,” said Kattern, calmly.