A man appeared, the light flashing from the decorations upon his breast, as he came slowly along the garden path.
“What do you mean?” he repeated blankly. “I—do—not—understand.”
“Indeed? Ah! here comes Lord Ashley. Pray excuse me. My next dance is his.”
CHAPTER XII
A NIGHT ALARM
“A crown for your thoughts, Professor!” said General Mainwarren to Professor Dean, as the latter sat thoughtfully watching the dancers.
The Professor aroused himself with a slight start.
“Oh, I was allowing my thoughts to drift idly in many currents,” he answered.
“For instance, if it is not impertinent to inquire?”
“Well, I was marveling at the beauty, the luxury and the splendor of all this, and thinking what it must cost to keep up. The thought occurred to me that the cost of this one ball”—and the Professor shot a sharp glance at General Mainwarren—“would probably be sufficient to keep warm all the poor people in your district who are likely to suffer, according to what you told us, for coal this Winter, in addition to supplying every poor child with a Christmas box.”
“A Christmas box!” exclaimed General Mainwarren. “What a quaint reminiscence wafted to us from the past!”