He muttered some excuse and was off. With beating heart he searched the crowds. Nowhere. Nowhere. He searched the fast-emptying ballroom, then the hall; then, with tears in his eyes and a choked, strangling in his throat, was turning back, when he caught sight of the diamond star high above the other heads, and the lovely soft black hair and the jolly smile.
“Traitor!” she said. “You forgot, after all.”
“No, I didn’t forget. It was my sister.”
But there was no time for explanation.
“Did you go with someone else to supper?”
“Yes; I’ve had supper.”
“Oh!” He half turned away. A tear was near its fall. “I suppose you couldn’t——”
“Yes, I could.” She twirled him round. “I can have any number of suppers. I can have supper all day and supper all night. Come along. You shall take me down in style. I put my arm through yours like that—see? No, the right. Now we lead the way. Who’s coming down to supper?”
His pride and his happiness! Who shall describe them? His back was so straight as they walked down the stairs that he almost fell backwards. The supper-room was a clatter of noise, but he was not so proud but that he was suddenly hungry—wildly, savagely hungry. She piled his plate with things, watching him, laughing at him.
“Nobody’s cut the cake yet,” she cried. “You shall cut it, Jeremy!”