He always associated her with the open air. Never once did he picture her cribbed in a room. For him she was a creature of the country-side, sun-kissed, folded in the arms of the wind, with the pure red wine of Nature singing through her delicate veins…. Thinking of veins, he recalled the faint exquisite blue of those which lay pencilled upon the back of her cold little hand. He remembered the line of them perfectly.
The vein, then, gave him the hand; the hand, the arm; the arm, the shoulder. He reconstructed her piecemeal with a rare faithfulness, till by the time he was on the moorland overlooking the smiling valley, where the railroad went shining away into the old world, there stood his lady beside him, complete, glorious, the freshening breeze behind her moulding her soft raiment to the shape of her beautiful limbs, her eyes shining, her lips parted, one little hand touching her dark hair—just Valerie.
So for a brief second she stood by his side. Once she swayed towards him before the mirror of Imagination shivered, but only once. Mostly it flew to flinders almost before she was come.
Anthony hungered for a sight of the girl desperately. Had this been offered him upon the understanding that he appeared to her in livery, he would still have jumped at the chance. From this may be gauged the degree of his hunger. He was, in fact, starving.
Consequently, when one ripe September morning—all dew and mellow sunshine and the lowing of cows—Betty tapped a letter with a significant forefinger and announced that it contained an invitation to a quiet little dance, Anthony, amid the general enthusiasm, displayed no more interest than politeness demanded and no curiosity at all.
Betty addressed herself to him.
"It's from Lady Touchstone. I was at school with her niece. They live at Bell Hammer, a beautiful place about five miles from here. You're included, of course. I saw her last week, so she knows all about you. It's because of her niece's birthday. Only about eight couples, she says, and no strangers."
"Except me," said Anthony.
"You won't feel strange long," said George. "Berry and Co. are sure to be there, for one thing, and they'll wrap their arms about you in about two minutes. They live at White Ladies. Some of them came to tea here the day you went over to Brooch."
"I don't think I'd better go," said Anthony. "It's very kind of Lady
Touchstone, but I'm not much of a dancer, and——"