“And is it yourselves?” she burst in rollickingly. “Proud to meet you! Will you partake?”
With a hospitable sweep of the arm, intelligible to speakers of any language, she made them free of her supper-table, where the candles still twinkled over an appetizing abundance.
Gerald watched sharply, saying to himself: “If they accept, we shall at least see their chins.”
But upon the invitation Sparafucile, with farcical demonstrations of greed, reached forth his long fingers in the flapping gloves, seized cakes, white grapes, mandarins, nuts, and stuffed them into his wide pockets; while the black domino grasped the neck of a bottle of champagne and possessed herself of a glass. A caw of thanks issued from the black beak, and from the bravo, as with their booty the two retreated to the door, there proceeded, as unexpected 211as upsetting, a whoop of rejoicing so loud that those near him fell back as if from the danger of an explosion. In the midst of this consternation the maskers were gone.
“My land! did you hear that?” cried Aurora, who had clapped both hands over the pit of her stomach. “Goodness! he’s scared the liver-pin out of me! Who d’you suppose they were?”
Landini lost not another minute before asking Mrs. Hawthorne if they should go down together for a turn.
Gerald had been on the point of asking the same thing. He had almost uttered the first word when Landini anticipated him. He felt a sharp prick of annoyance with himself for not having been quicker as much as with Landini for having been so quick. A little jealousy was quite in order with regard to Mrs. Hawthorne now, on the simple ground of that more intimate footing of friendship established between them by the portrait. With the expression of courteous mournfulness proper in an outrivaled cavalier, he made the gesture silently of having been at the lady’s service. Manlio did the same.
The singular blonde, with Nubian lip and Parisian hair, Miss Deliverance Jones, or, more commonly, Livvy, who spent this evening at the farther end of the box making her own reflections on the European doings of which she got glimpses, held up a white satin domino for her mistress’s arms. Gerald precipitated himself, took it from the maid and held it in her place. He tried to meet his friend’s glance, hoping for some faintest sign of participation in his regret at not having been “spryer.” For the space of a second, just before she fastened on her mask, he caught her eye. Brief and bright as the illumination of 212summer lightning, a look of fun flashed over her face. She winked at him.
Landini ceremoniously held his arm for her and Gerald saw them leave together with a lessened objection.
Gerald had for some time past suspected that Landini was paying court to Mrs. Hawthorne. Whether the lady were aware of it he could not tell. Gerald had not believed the man had a chance, although, women being incalculable, one can never feel quite easy. But now he could almost have found it in himself to pity the somewhat singular man–Italian in fact, English in manner, Oriental in looks,–if so were he had built up any little practical dream on the fair widow’s acceptance of him. To the possibility of a sentimental dream Gerald did not accord one single thought.