Hawke Holcroft's shifty eyes lowered as he watched the cousins and whirled in a waltz with Ruby Logan or any other girl who came to hand. He was in utter perplexity to find the new footing on which these hitherto strange lovers so suddenly were, and that he himself was, as he felt and thought, 'nowhere!'
What could she mean? There was something of radiance in the faces of all the family—even of the sweetly pensive Eveline—all indicative of a new movement that he was out of.
'As for Olive,' he muttered, while a sentiment of rage, mingled with avarice and jealousy, grew strong in his heart, 'she is an infernal weather-cock, but a deuced handsome one!'
Ruby Logan was equally puzzled, but found consolation with young Carslogie of the Black Watch, whom Allan had invited to the festivity, and who styled her, with reference to her hair, 'the amber witch.'
'Happy Olive and Allan,' thought Eveline, as she rested for a minute on the arm of Cameron, 'they may have as many round dances as they choose without remark, while mine, with him, must be few and far between.'
Her dress was white silk, trimmed with little laurel leaves and crowberry—the latter a delicate attention to Evan, as it is the badge of the Camerons.
'Will you wear my colours to-night?' she asked, as they promenaded at that end of the room which was furthest away from 'papa and mamma.' She broke off a spray and made him a button-hole. 'Allow me to fix it for you,' said Eveline, and deftly she put it in his lapel, while Evan's heart thrilled to feel the touch of her beloved hand—even though gloved—so near his heart, as they swept into another waltz.
'Aberfeldie,' said the hostess to her husband, 'I feel certain that Evan Cameron is in love with our Eveline.'
Lord Aberfeldie had no doubt about it whatever now, but he only said,
'He would be a fool to be otherwise.'