“My darling Sybil, that comes of your old-fashioned notions and country training; and it deprives you of giving and receiving much pleasure,” answered Mr. Berners.
And before Sybil could reply to that, the Black Prince came up to claim her promised hand in the quadrilles that were then forming.
Again, as she flashed like fire through and through the mazes of the dance, her elegant figure, her graceful motions, and her dazzling, flame-like dress was the general subject of enthusiastic admiration.
It was impossible but that some of this praise should reach the ears of its object. And equally impossible that her own name should not be coupled with it. So Sybil at length discovered that her identity was known, to some persons certainly—to how many she could not even conjecture.
Suddenly she resolved to try an experiment. She turned to her partner and inquired:
“Do you know me?”
“Not until you permit me to do so, Madam,” answered the Black Prince, very courteously.
“Your reply was worthy of a knight and prince! So I permit you to recognize me,” said Sybil.
“Then you are our beautiful hostess; and I am happy to greet you by your real name, Mrs. Berners,” said the Black Prince.
“Thanks,” answered Sybil. “I saw that many persons knew me, and I wished to ascertain whether you were among their number, and how you and others found me out.”