‘Forgive me, Susan!’ He leans forward, and takes her hand. As he feels it within his—close clasped, and not withdrawn—and with Susan’s earnest eyes looking into his, words spring to his lips: ‘Susan, once you took me under your protection. Do you remember that old garden, and——’
Whatever he was going to say is here rudely broken in upon by the advance of James, who, though distinctly ugly, looks no longer dull. He seems now dreadfully wide-awake. Susan draws her hand quickly away, and Crosby, who believes she has done this lest James should see the too friendly attitude, is still further mortified by her manner.
‘I think I told you you were not to speak of that—that hateful day again,’ says she; and turning from him as if eternally offended, seats herself on a rug quite far away from him, and in such a position that James can find a resting-place at her feet—a fact he is very swift to see.
The others have all come up now, and Dom, who is terribly conversational, opens the ball.
‘What are you now, James?’ asks he. ‘General?’
‘Not quite,’ responds James gruffly, who naturally objects to being chaffed in the presence of the beloved one.
‘Colonel? Eh?’
‘Don’t be stupid, Dom,’ says Susan suddenly. ‘He is a lieutenant, but soon he’ll be a captain—won’t you, James? Come up here and take part of my rug.’
‘Oh no! no!’ says James, in a nervous, flurried tone that is filled with absolute adoration; ‘I like being here.’
‘But——’