Miss De Lancie, who never waltzed, remained the center of a charmed circle, formed of the most distinguished men present, until the waltzing was over, and the quadrilles were called, where she accepted the hand of Colonel Randolph for the first set, and yielded her seat to the wearied Cornelia, who was led thither by her partner to rest.
It chanced that Miss De Lancie was conducted to the head of the set, then forming, and that she stood at some little distance, immediately in front of, and facing the spot where Cornelia sat, so that the latter, while resting, could witness Marguerite. Now Cornelia very much admired Miss De Lancie, and thought it appeared graceful and disinterested to laud the excellencies of her friend, at she would not have done those of her sister, had she possessed one. So now she tapped her partner’s hand with her fan, and said:
“Oh, do but look at Miss De Lancie! Is she not the most beautiful woman in the room?”
The gentleman followed the direction of her glance, where Marguerite was moving like a queen through the dance, and said:
“Miss De Lancie is certainly the most beautiful woman in the world—except one,” with a glance, that the vanity of Nellie readily interpreted.
The eyes of both turned again upon Marguerite, who was now standing still in her place waiting for the next quadrille to be called. While they thus contemplated her in all her splendid beauty, set off by a toilet the most elegant in the room, Marguerite suddenly gave a violent start, shivered through all her frame and bent anxiously to listen to something that was passing between two gentlemen, who were conversing in a low tone, near her. She grew paler and paler as she listened, and then with a stifled shriek, she fell to the floor, ere any one could spring to save her.
Cornelia flew to her friend’s relief. She was already raised in the arms of Colonel Randolph, and surrounded by ladies anxiously proffering vinaigrettes and fans, while their partners rushed after glasses of water.
“Bring her into the dressing-room, at once, Randolph,” said Colonel Compton, as he joined the group.
Accordingly Miss De Lancie was conveyed thither, and laid upon a lounge, where every restorative at hand was used in succession, and in vain. More than an hour passed, while she lay in that deathlike swoon; and when at last the efforts of an experienced physician were crowned with thus much success, that she opened her dimmed eyes and unclosed her blanched lips, it was only to utter one word—“Lost”—and to relapse into insensibility.
She was put into the carriage and conveyed home, accompanied by her wondering friends and attended by the perplexed physician. She was immediately undressed and placed in bed, where she lay all night, vibrating between stupor and a low muttering delirium, in which some irreparable misfortune was indicated without being revealed—was it all delirium?