“I beg your pardon, I—I was startled”
“If it is my misfortune to startle unsuspecting guests when I come upon them without notice, it is for me to apologize. No,” then continuing hastily, as he began a protestation: “You needn’t explain! Do not trouble yourself to tell me that only the most disturbing types of beauty cause you just that kind of a shock.”
“But why not, if it is the truth? Besides, as you stepped out into the moonlight you were a blinding apparition, all in white, against the darkness behind. I have no doubt the moon herself was a little startled.”
“You certainly were less happy in concealing your agitation than the—other victim.”
Although his manner was deferential and gave indications of a positive but discreetly repressed admiration, she felt ill at ease with him. It was impossible to forget his repulsive title, and turning partly away she looked over the room, and answered:
“Since you are completely recovered and my apology is accepted, I suppose there is nothing more to be done.”
As the words were uttered the opening strains of a waltz came floating across the hall, and he begged that she give him a dance in token of absolution. It was easier to grant it than to refuse, and in another moment they were gliding over the floor. As they moved away she experienced a new sensation. This partner, while adapting himself to her own movements, carried her with a gentle force that relieved her of all volition. While, in effect, borne up and along by the music, she was governed by a pressure that was hardly perceptible; yet, at a critical instant, when a reckless dancer came plunging toward them, she felt herself swung lightly from his path, to relapse at once into a tranquil security and float peacefully away. This floating with the music was so easy, so very drowsy and relaxing, that her consciousness almost drifted with the rhythm of the waltz. Once, as her eyes were uplifted to the gorgeous frieze, the white-winged Cupids that a moment before were lolling idly against the blue and gold background seemed now to be keeping time with the music, swaying and dancing in their irresponsible nakedness.
Miss Cabot was surprised when the music ceased and at once regretted having danced such a length of time with a stranger of unsavory reputation. As they left the ball-room and entered the ancestral hall she was flushed and out of breath, endeavoring with one hand to replace a lock of hair that had fallen about her neck.
“It’s a shame,” he muttered.