"Hullo, Aura!" came her husband's voice as he issued from one of these corners with Miss Hirsch on his arm. "All alone! Why, what's up?"
The necessity for calm came to her. "I was looking for you," she said. "I want you to order the carriage for me. I'm feeling--not very well--and I shall be better at home--you see, as I don't dance." She looked helplessly at him wondering if she would be allowed to go.
"I'll take you home, of course, if you want to go," he said gloomily--"that is, if Miss Hirsch will excuse me." His regret for three more dances with the jolliest girl he had met for years was in his voice.
"Then I won't go," she began, "I couldn't spoil----"
"You are not looking a bit well," said Miss Hirsch kindly. "See! I'll take you to the ladies' room. Mr. Cruttenden, you might send her in a glass of champagne. Then you can have a quiet rest there, and go home later if you want to, but I expect you'll be all right by supper time."
She nodded knowingly to Ted and went off with Aura, bursting over with friendliness.
But, left alone in charge of a bevy of prim maids, with the untouched champagne before her, Aura's courage rose. She would do what she wanted to do. So, on her programme card she wrote a note to her husband using all the most consoling phrases she could think of--"Feeling a little bilious," was in itself sufficient to allay any anxiety--ended up with a cheerful--"I shall be asleep long ere you come home, please enjoy yourself," and leaving this to be given to him when he came to inquire, slipped away. The clocks were just striking half-past eleven when she paid the cabman at the gate. She had forgotten the latch-key, but, thank heaven, the servants were still up. It was New Year's Eve. Her thoughts flew back to Cwmfaernog, to the last New Year's Day when she had learnt so many things.
She was going to learn more now. She could not understand. She did not know what the world meant. She was going to see for herself once and for all.
As she thought this she was stripping off Myfanwy's creation.
"Enjoy herself!" She flung it into a corner almost with a cry, and the next minute stood in her white serge and the brown Tam-o'-Shanter. Mercifully some faint instinct of self-preservation made her muffle up the bronze beauty of her hair and hide some of the perfection of her face under a thick veil. The next instant she had carefully closed the front door again, and was hurrying away down the road towards the electric tram. They went till midnight; that would take her quickest to the heart of the great city. She had Ted's duplicate latch-key with her; she would try and be back before he returned.