He had other things which he wanted to say, but he calculatingly reserved them for the day of the picture viewing, when he would have her exclusive attention; so, through the dance, he talked of trifles far from his heart. He was a nice chap, too.
Dick Rodley was on hand with the last stroke of the music, to claim her for his dance. By one of those waves of unspoken agreement, Gail was being “rushed.” It was her night, and she enjoyed it to the full. Perhaps the new awakening in Gail, the crystallisation of which she had been forced to become conscious, had something to do with this. Her cheeks, while no more beautiful in their delicacy of colouring, had a certain quality of translucence, which gave her the indefinable effect of glowing from within; her eyes, while no brighter, had changed the manner of their brightness. They had lost something of their sparkle, which had been replaced by a peculiarly enticing half-veiled scintillation, much as if they were smouldering, only to cast off streams of brilliant sparks at the slightest disturbance; while all about her was the vague intangible aura of magnetic attraction which seemed to flutter and to soothe and to call, all in one.
Dick Rodley was the first to know this vague change in her; perhaps because Dick, with all his experience in the social diversion of love-making, was, after all, more spiritual in his physical perceptions. At any rate he hovered near her at every opportunity throughout the evening, and his own eyes, which had the natural trick of glowing, now almost blazed when they met those of Gail. She liked him, and she did not. She was thrown into a flutter of pleasure when he came near her, she enjoyed a clash of wit, and of will, and of snappy mutual attraction; then suddenly she wanted him away from her, only to welcome him eagerly when he came back.
Van Ploon danced with her, danced conscientiously, keeping perfect time to the music, avoiding, with practised adroitness, every possible pocketing, or even hem contacts with surrounding couples, and acquitting himself of lightly turned observations at the expiration of about every seventy seconds. He was aware that Gail was exceptionally pretty to-night, but, if he stopped to analyse it at all, he probably ascribed it to her delicate blue dancing frock with its opalescent flakes, or her coiffure, or something of the sort. He quite approved of her; extraordinarily so. He had never met a girl who approached so near the thousand per cent. grade of perfection by all the blue ribbon points.
It was while she was enjoying her second restful dance with Van Ploon that Gail, swinging with him near the south windows, heard the honk of an auto horn, and a repetition close after, and, by the acceleration of tone, she discerned that the machine was coming up the drive at break-neck speed. Moreover, her delicately attuned musical ear recognised something familiar in the sound of the horn; perhaps tone, perhaps duration, perhaps inflection, more likely a combination of all three. Consequently, she was not at all surprised when, near the conclusion of the dance, she saw Allison standing in the doorway of the ballroom, with his hands in his pockets, watching her with a smile. Her eyes lighted with pleasure, and she nodded gaily to him over Van Ploon’s tall shoulder. When the dance stopped she was on the far side of the room, and was instantly the centre of a buzzing little knot of dancers, from out of which carefree laughter radiated like visible flashes of musical sound. She emerged from the group with the arms of two bright-eyed girls around her waist, and met Allison sturdily breasting the currents which had set towards the conservatory, the drawing-rooms, or the buffet.
“Nobody has saved me a dance,” he complained.
“Nobody expected you until to-morrow,” Gail smilingly returned, introducing him to the girls. “I’ll beg you one of my dances from Ted or somebody.”
She was so obviously slated to entertain Allison during this little intermission, that Van Ploon, following the trio in duty bound, took one of the girls and went away, and her partner led the other one to the music room.
“I’ll have Lucile piece you out a card,” offered Gail, as they strolled naturally across to the little glass enclosed balcony. “I don’t think I can secure you one of Arly’s dances. She’s scandalously popular to-night.”
“One will be enough for me, unless you can steal me some more of your own,” he told her, glancing down at her, from coiffure to blue pointed slippers, with calm appreciation. “You are looking great to-night,” and his gaze came back to rest in her glowing eyes. Her fresh colour had been heightened by the excitement of the evening, but now an added flush swept lightly over her cheeks, and passed.