“About four days, Archer.”
Suddenly both became grave and thoughtful—they were occupied with the same thoughts—of the calamities that had befallen mutual friends since their last parting. They were silent—they did not like to sadden this first meeting by referring to the mournful subject. And before either knew of her approach, Mrs. Georgia had glided swiftly and silently up to them. Now, Mrs. Georgia had passed and repassed Mrs. Clifton a score of times that evening, without once noticing her. But now that Archer Clifton sat by his mother’s side, the Circe appeared before them, dark, resplendent, alluring as ever. She was leaning upon the arm of the Lieutenant-Governor. Archer Clifton sprang up immediately, and greeted her with surprise and pleasure. Dismissing her escort with a charming smile and wave of the hand she sank gracefully, languishingly into the seat by the side of Mrs. Clifton, and glided into her own fascinating style of conversation. After a few minutes, Archer Clifton seemed quite lost to everything else, in the charm of the syren’s society, until a certain, sweet, enticing restlessness on the part of the beauty, suggested to him the propriety of inviting her to promenade. She arose with a bewildering smile, that quite drove his mother out of his head, and slipped her arm through his. They joined the promenaders. In the meantime, Kate Kavanagh, on the arm of Colonel Conyers, was moving around in the same circle, highly amused in making observations, and scarcely appreciating the sincere admiration of her escort, that was apparent to every one else, especially to the correspondent of the Fiddle-de-dee, who, in his next letter, in giving an account of the reception, made an item of the manifest admiration of the gallant and distinguished Colonel C——, for the beautiful and accomplished Miss K——. Catherine at length thought that her kind patroness might be lonely, and expressed a wish to rejoin her. In turning to retrace their steps, they met face to face with Archer Clifton and his companion. Major Clifton recognized the poor mountain-girl in that saloon, with a look of supercilious surprise, and Mrs. Georgia looked calmly through her body without seeing her at all. With a slight bow, Major Clifton passed on with his companion. And as for Kate, her heart had a habit of standing perfectly still in an emergency, and now it had stopped so suddenly, and stood still so long, that she was on the verge of fainting.
“You are not well. You are wearied. You have remained on your feet too long. Let me take you to a seat, Miss Kavanagh,” said the Colonel. With a gasp and a shiver, Kate recovered and rejoined Mrs. Clifton. And she permitted herself to fall into no more weakness that night. But Kate had unconsciously betrayed her secret to the officer. And by the interference of her good angel, this knowledge thus obtained, enabled Colonel Conyers to do Kate a service of vital importance in after years.
“Archer is come,” said Mrs. Clifton, as Catherine took her seat.
“I know it. I met him,” replied Catherine, and both fell into silence, for at that instant Major Clifton and the beautiful Georgia passed them. And from that time, and so long as they sat there, again and again in the slow revolving of the great circle of promenaders, the pair passed and repassed them—Georgia smiling, cooing, murmuring, in her low, alluring music—and Archer Clifton, bending over her with his brilliant gray eyes, feeding on her lovely face, seeming to sink deeper and deeper into the bathos of her charms, while Carolyn turned sick with jealousy, and Catherine faint with dread, and the correspondent of the Fiddle-de-dee made a note of the distinguished favor with which the most beautiful Mrs. C——, the reigning belle of Richmond, received the devoirs of her distant relative, the celebrated Major C——. Fear nothing, Carolyn, or Catherine, Archer Clifton is not in love with his uncle’s widow—that very relationship would repel the idea, if nothing else. But he is not indifferent to the honor of monopolizing the reigning queen of the ton.
“Aunt Cabell,” said Carolyn, “I cannot sit up longer. I must go home.”
And Mrs. Cabell consented to gratify her wish. In fact it was growing late, and the ultra fashionables, the last to come, and the first to leave, were beginning to disappear. Mrs. Georgia unwillingly discovered this fact, but she thought that at least she could adroitly secure the services of her companion as an escort home, and detain him to any hour in the little paradise of her own boudoir. She therefore expressed herself ennuied, and entreated Major Clifton to conduct her to the cloak-room. He attended her thither. And there he met again his Cousin Carolyn. She looked so fair, so wan, so fragile, that he could not for a moment take his eyes from her. He hastily adjusted the mantle over the shoulders of Georgia, handed her her muff and hood, and excusing himself for a moment, hurried back to his mother’s side.
“You have company home, madam, have you not?”
“Certainly, Archer. I should not be here without such a provision—here comes Colonel Conyers now to attend us.”
“Good-night, then! I will see you early to-morrow! Good-night, Kate!” He was off.