“No, Mr Riddell,” and he started violently as Tory stood looking at him with her wicked eyes. “No, please don’t, it’s very expensive, and it matches her gown exactly. Please get something else, and give that to me.”
Sylvester coloured, and laughed rather foolishly, restoring the glove to Tory with an elaborate bow. Then,—for what was there now to keep him at the ball?—he went away as soon as possible, back to the lodgings which he usually occupied when in town.
Amethyst meanwhile, disregarding Una’s entreaty that she would go back to the ball, hastily divested herself of her finery, and came back in her white dressing-gown to her sister’s side.
“Are you quite comfortable now, my darling? What was I thinking of to let you go?”
Una gave a faint little laugh.
“You had plenty to think of,” she said. “Amethyst, have you quite said yes?”
“No,” said Amethyst petulantly, “I haven’t.”
“Kiss me, hold me!” whispered Una, nestling up to her. “Then I can tell you. I told Sylvester Riddell about that day, I made him believe that he saw me. And there’s not one of them as much in love with you as he is. That’s the real thing. That’s how I fainted, it was so hard.”
“Oh, my dear child, let the past alone. What does it matter?” said Amethyst, though with a great throb at her heart. “That’s all too late, all done with, that old time.”
There was a minute’s silence, then Una whispered—