Alcée and Calixta laughed softly about it. Her boisterousness was all gone. They talked low, and laughed softly, as lovers do.
"Alcée! Alcée Laballière!"
It was not the negro's voice this time; but one that went through Alcée's body like an electric shock, bringing him to his feet.
Clarisse was standing there in her riding-habit, where the negro had stood. For an instant confusion reigned in Alcée's thoughts, as with one who awakes suddenly from a dream. But he felt that something of serious import had brought his cousin to the ball in the dead of night.
"W'at does this mean, Clarisse?" he asked.
"It means something has happen' at home. You mus' come."
"Happened to maman?" he questioned, in alarm.
"No; nénaine is well, and asleep. It is something else. Not to frighten you. But you mus' come. Come with me, Alcée."
There was no need for the imploring note. He would have followed the voice anywhere.
She had now recognized the girl sitting back on the bench.