"Val, let us dance together 'for auld lang syne.'"
"With pleasure," he assented abstractedly, for as she spoke he had caught a glimpse of Jean disappearing through one of the long windows which gave on the veranda. Miss Stuart's glance followed his, and her eyes flashed. The carelessness of his reply hurt her cruelly.
"I will make Jean suffer for this," she vowed, as with throbbing heart she took her place among the dancers.
Later, as they passed through the doorway, they encountered Jean and Maynard re-entering the room. Miss Stuart first caught sight of them. She raised her glorious eyes to her companion's face, and spoke in a voice carefully pitched to reach Jean's ears:
"Yes, indeed, Val, it is pleasant to dance together again. It brings back those bygone happy days so forcibly."
They were abreast of the other couple now, and Farr halted. Miss Stuart's speech had quite escaped him, absorbed as he was in watching Jean, so he was entirely unprepared for her reception of him. As he spoke her name she flashed a light impenetrable smile at him, and then deliberately turned away, and he heard her say gayly to the man at her side:
"Mr. Maynard, that waltz is divine. Don't let us miss another bar of it."
And Maynard answered softly:
"Your wish is my law, Miss Jean."
Then the crowd surged between them, and with a somewhat unreasonable bitterness in his heart Farr blindly followed Miss Stuart to a secluded corner of the veranda. Jean's treatment of him was inexplicable. It seemed so much easier for things to go wrong than right that he felt it was well-nigh useless to struggle against the inevitable. Disappointed and dispirited he paid but small heed to his beautiful companion, who was exerting her rare tact and diplomacy to please and divert him.