“I see by the morning papers that Miss Arundel has taken the veil.”
“I missed my papers to-day,” said Lothair, a little agitated, “but I have long been aware of her intention of doing so.”
“Lady St. Jerome will miss her very much. She was quite the soul of the house.”
“It must be a great and painful sacrifice,” said Lothair; “but, I believe, long meditated. I remember when I was at Vauxe, nearly two years ago, that I was told this was to be her fate. She was quite determined on it.”
“I saw the beautiful crucifix you gave her, at Mr. Ruby’s.”
“It was an homage to her for her great goodness to me when I was ill at Rome—and it was difficult to find any thing that would please or suit her. I fixed on the crucifix, because it permitted me to transfer to it the earth of the holy places, which were included in the crucifix, that was given to me by the monks of the Holy Sepulchre, when I made my pilgrimage to Jerusalem.”
In the evening St. Aldegonde insisted on their dancing, and he engaged himself to Madame Phoebus. Bertram and Euphrosyne seemed never separated; Lothair was successful in inducing Lady Corisande to be his partner.
“Do you remember your first ball at Crecy House?” asked Lothair. “You are not nervous now?”
“I would hardly say that,” said Lady Corisande, “though I try not to show it.”
“It was the first ball for both of us,” said Lothair. “I have not danced so much in the interval as you have. Do you know, I was thinking, just now, I have danced oftener with you than with any one else?”