Abel Newt had not lost Hope Wayne from his attention for a single moment during the evening; and before the interest in the dance was palled, before people had begun to buzz again and turn away, while Mrs. Van Kraut and he were still the spectacle upon which all eyes were directed, he suddenly whirled his partner toward the spot where Hope Wayne and her friends were standing, and stopped.
It was no more necessary for Mrs. Van Kraut to fan herself than if she had been a marble statue. But it is proper to fan one’s self when one has done dancing—so she waved the fan. Besides, it was a Van Kraut heir-loom. It came from Amsterdam. It was studded with jewels. It was part of the property.
As for Abel, he turned and bowed profoundly to Miss Wayne. Of course she knew that people were looking. She bowed as if to a mere acquaintance. Abel said a few words, signifying nothing, to his partner, then he remarked to Miss Wayne that he was very glad indeed to meet her again; that he had not called because he knew she had been making a convent of her aunt’s house—making herself a nun—a Sister of Charity, he did not doubt, doing good as she always did—making every body in the world happy, as she could not help doing, and so forth.
Abel rattled on, he did not know why; but he did know that his Uncle Lawrence, and Amy Waring, and Mr. Merlin heard every thing he said. Hope looked at him calmly, and listened to the gay cascade of talk.
The music was still playing; Mr. Van Boozenberg spoke to Lawrence Newt; Amy Waring said that she saw her Aunt Bennet. Would Mr. Merlin take her to her aunt?—he should return to his worship in one moment. Mr. Merlin was very gallant, and replied with spirit that when her worship returned—here he made a low bow—his would. As they moved away Amy Waring laughed at him, and said that men would compliment as long as—as women are lovely, interpolated Mr. Merlin. Arthur also wished to know what speech was good for, if not to say the sweetest things; and so they were lost to view, still gayly chatting with the pleasant freedom of a young man and woman who know that they are not in love with each other, and are perfectly content not to be so, because—whether they know it or not—they are each in love with somebody else.
This movement had taken place as Abel was finishing his scattering volley of talk.
“Yes,” said he, as he saw that he was not overheard, and sinking his voice into that tone of tender music which Hope so well remembered—“yes, making every body in the world happy but one person.”
His airy persiflage had not pleased Hope Wayne. The sudden modulation into sentiment offended her. Before she replied—indeed she had no intention of replying—the round eyes of Mrs. Van Kraut informed her partner that she was ready for another turn, and forth they whirled upon the floor.
“I jes’ sez to Mrs. Dagon, you know, ma’am, sez I, I don’t like to see a young man like Mr. Abel Newt, sez I, wasting himself upon married women. No, sez I, ma’am, when you women have made your market, sez I, you oughter stan’ one side and give the t’others a chance, sez I.”
Mr. Van Boozenberg addressed this remark to Lawrence Newt. In the eyes of the old gentleman it was another instance of imprudence on Abel’s part not to be already engaged to some rich girl.