Oh, how kind and good he was to her! How very despicable it was to deceive him! But what could she do? Fate was against her.
Eugene could not help but notice the intense excitement under which she labored during the time that elapsed to the coming of the ball. She longed, yet dreaded to have the day arrive.
The day came at last, bright and clear. There was no cloud in the blue sky; the sun shone brightly in the heavens. She was glad that there were several guests at the house, as her husband would not have much opportunity of observing her.
How that day passed she never knew. One moment she was as white as death, the next she flushed as red as a rose.
"Heaven help me to live over the excitement of to-day!" she murmured, clasping her hands tightly.
She prayed for the noonday to linger. But time, which stays at no man's bidding, rolled on. The sun went down in a sweep of crimson glory; dusk gathered and deepened into the darkness of night.
Seven o'clock sounded from the pearl-and-gold clock on the mantel. Seven o'clock resounded from the great brass-throated clock in the main hall.
"Nora," said Ida to her maid, "go down to the library and tell Mr. Mallard that I am indisposed and can not go with him to the ball, but that I earnestly pray he will go without me, and enjoy himself. Say that I wish particularly that he should go; and notice what he says, Nora, and come back and tell me."
It seemed to Ida that Nora would never deliver the message.