Miss Trevennon’s clear-cut, soft-tinted face was somewhat inanimate this evening. The ball had lost much of its charm since she had contemplated the prospect in the morning. In the first place, the possibility of Charley Somers coming to Washington troubled her, and, in the second, Alan Decourcy’s words and looks, with a chance of their repetition this evening, made her uneasy. Besides these, there was a feeling of disappointment, all the keener for being unowned, even to herself, that Louis Gaston should not be here to welcome her back, and to share the interest and pride Cousin Eugenia so evidently took in her appearance at this ball.
Arrived at their destination, Mrs. Gaston and Margaret, escorted by General Gaston, were passing through the main hall on their way to the dressing-rooms, when they came upon Alan Decourcy, with a sumptuously apparelled lady on his arm. She was a decidedly pretty woman, and Margaret observed that she clung to her companion with an air of the friendliest familiarity. She also observed that her pink gauze costume was somewhat decolleté, and that a strap of black velvet stood in lieu of a sleeve across her white shoulder, a similar bit supporting a superb pendant of diamonds, which ornamented her fair, round throat.
This lady bowed affably to Mrs. Gaston, and regarded Margaret with a broad stare. Alan, of course, spoke also, but for some reason Margaret avoided doing more than just glancing at him as she passed on toward the staircase.
“And so Mrs. Vere already has your cousin in her toils!” said Mrs. Gaston, as they were approaching the dressing-room.
“Was that Mrs. Vere?” said Margaret. “Who is she?”
“Oh, she’s one of the most noted of the married belles!” said Mrs. Gaston. “If Mr. Decourcy were not a man of the world and well able to take care of himself, it might be well for you to warn him. As it is, I feel no anxiety about him.”
“And who is Mr. Vere?”
“Mrs. Vere’s husband. He may or may not be here. He’s apt to turn up in the supper-room.”
Margaret said no more, but set herself to the adjustment of her toilet with a certain air of preoccupation. Having ascertained by a glance that her costume was in order, she stood looking very thoughtful as she waited for her cousin, whose touches here and there consumed a much longer time.
When the two ladies emerged from the dressing-room together, they found Alan Decourcy, with General Gaston, awaiting them. He had freed himself from Mrs. Vere, in some way, and offered his arm to take Margaret into the room. She laid her hand within it lightly, and they followed General and Mrs. Gaston in silence.