“Drusa, my dear, you were very brilliant last evening, not only beautiful, but brilliant. I really thought you enjoyed queening it in society. You laughed and talked and danced the whole evening. I should never have suspected you of playing a part.”
“Oh Anna! I was not exactly playing a part either. Oh, Anna, you have heard how the timid Chinese sound a gong and make a terrible noise to drown their own fears and to dismay their foes when they go into battle? Anna, it was much the same with me. I had to laugh and talk and dance and jest to deafen me to the cry in my heart, which was almost breaking all the while. Oh, Anna, he has ceased to love me now! I know it, he has entirely ceased to love me!”
“I don’t feel so sure of that myself, Drusilla. If you, were afraid to look at him, I was not. I saw him several times in the course of the evening; and whenever I saw him he was standing near you and following you with his eyes.”
“He was? He was, Anna?” eagerly, breathlessly inquired the young wife.
“Indeed he was.”
“You are sure?”
“Quite sure. I watched him.”
“Ah, but—perhaps he did so in hate or in anger,” said Drusilla, with a sigh.
Anna was silent.
“Say! was it not in anger or in hate, Anna?”