On my way I met, or rather encountered, our sandy friend who had spoilt my interview. There was a heavy crush on the stairs; and so, somebody else having shoved against me, I revenged myself on this gentleman, giving him such a malicious dig in the ribs from my elbow as elicited a deep sighing groan. This was some slight satisfaction to me. It sounded exactly like the affected “Hough!” which paviours give vent to, when wielding their mallets and ramming down the stones of the roadway!
In the hall, as I was hunting for my overcoat and hat, which had been buried beneath an avalanche of other upper garments, Min, who had followed me down, laid her hand timidly on my arm. She looked up in my face entreatingly.
“You are not going yet, Frank, are you?” she asked.
“Yes,” said I, curtly. “What should I stay for? Do you think I find it so amusing to be laughed at? It is very poor fun, I think!”
“But you, surely, won’t go before saying good-bye to the lady of the house, Frank?” she then said.
She evidently thought, you see, that I was going to commit an unpardonable breach of good manners; and, that made her call me back—nothing else!
I returned with her to the drawing-room. Min’s face was quite pale now; and, the little rosebud lips were pressed closely together, as if in set determination. She perceived that she could not any longer put off what she knew was coming—no matter what might have been her kindly intent in so wishing to do.
On our entrance the band was playing the Mabel waltz. How well I remember it!
We joined in for a few turns; and, as I clasped my arm round her darling waist, feeling her warm heart beating against mine, I longed to clasp her so always, and waltz on for ever!
In a little while we rested; and, getting her to walk out on to the canopied balcony through the French windows of the drawing-room, I there said my say to her, amidst the waving ferns and showy azaleas that surrounded us.