But guests were soon seen passing through the hall on their way to the dressing-rooms, and Rachel was obliged to hurry off; soon the rooms began to fill, and before long the wonderful "German" was at its height.
The doctor felt himself a stranger in a strange land; he had been introduced to, and conversed with, several young ladies, but now all conversation was broken up by the "German," and he stood leaning against the door-way, and watched the dance as it proceeded. He noticed several men, much older than himself, dancing with fair young girls; and he wondered within himself if they were really enjoying themselves, and why it was that he stood like one shut out from all the pleasures of youth, young in years but old in feelings; in fact, he was getting a trifle misanthropical, when Marion floated slowly past him, waltzing with Arthur Thornton. As they passed, so near that her draperies touched him, he heard Mr. Thornton say, in a low tone full of meaning, "Marion you are enough to make a man mad, to-night! You are almost too lovely!"
"So," thought the doctor, as he turned away, "it is all settled. Well, I supposed as much."
He did not see Marion as she abruptly stopped dancing, and looked at poor, infatuated Arthur with a frigid glance, which made his heart leap to his throat, as she said, "Mr. Thornton, you forget yourself; will you lead me to my seat?"
Poor Arthur! it was his first rash act; he had loved Marion so well, and tried so hard to conceal it until he was sure of her feelings; but to-night as he said, she was almost too lovely, and before he had thought of the consequences he had called her by name and told her so. It was his first act of tenderness and his last, for now he knew as well that to her he could never be anything more than a friend, as if she had refused him point-blank. Poor fellow! it was a hard blow, but he did not stagger under it; he danced the "German" with as much apparent gayety, and hid his grief under as bright a smile as ever graced a ball-room. But though he flattered himself that no one knew the pain he suffered, there was one, who, although she neither heard his remark, nor Marion's answer, witnessed the little scene between them, saw the frigid look in Marion's eyes, and the light die out of his, and her heart ached for the poor fellow, as only the heart of a young girl can ache, over the sorrows of a man whose happiness is dearer to her than her own.
The next morning Rachel was in the dining-room, waiting for her uncle to come to breakfast. She had watered and arranged the plants, and now stood tapping impatiently on the window-pane, and wondering why he was so late; but he soon made his appearance, coming in with Mrs. Marston.
"O Uncle Robert!" she exclaimed, "I began to think you were never coming; don't you know I'm dying to hear about the party?"
"My dear, if I had known you were in such a terrible state of mind and body," replied her uncle, as he seated himself at the table, "I would have come down at six; but if you will take the trouble to look at the clock, you will see it is you who are early, not I who am late."
"Well, never mind that," impatiently replied Rachel; "how did Marion look?"