The girl looked keenly into his pale face. "Two are enough. Why do you ask more of me?" she inquired.
"Because I have so much to explain to you. Because so much must happen to-night. You'll grant me the dances?"
"If you like. What is to happen to-night?"
He leaned over her and looked straight down into her steady eyes. "I am going to marry you to-night," he whispered, quietly.
Deborah did not change color. She scarcely realized what he had said.
"How? Where?" she asked, a faint smile curling her lips.
"No—I mean it. I will tell you when we dance."
Pausing a moment, undecidedly, after those words, he presently turned and left her there, staring at the opposite wall, not perceiving the little throng of officers who had set upon Charles with sudden elaborate congratulations, a good deal of chaff, and some expostulation, just across the room. Nor did she see Will Paca, her partner for the minuet, till she found him demanding the subject of her meditations.
The first strains of the opening minuet came from the orchestra up the room. The moving throng suddenly resolved into order, and various sets of sixteen were formed. The two Trevor girls were excellent dancers, both showing appreciation of natural harmony by the way in which they managed themselves: Lucy lightly, with an occasional added step; Virginia, with languorous grace, keeping perfect time, yet moving more leisurely than any other woman in the room. As to Deborah, her dancing was, ordinarily, the delight of her partner; for, no matter how lively her conversation, she had never been known to halt at a step. To-night it appeared as though she had forgotten the very rudiments of the accomplishment. She failed on all the returns, stumbled in her courtesies, walked upon the train of the lady in front of her, and, withal, maintained such unbreakable silence throughout the dance that her partner breathed with relief when the last chord was struck and the old people prepared to retire to cards. When Will Paca had left her and Robin Thomas approached for the first country-dance, Deborah shook herself vigorously, and vowed that for twenty minutes, at least, she would forget the existence of Sir Charles, in favor of her partner of the moment.
In the mean time Lucy had stumbled into a most unfortunate situation. The minuet over, she and her companion, talking and laughing together after the breaking up of the set, passed out of the large drawing-room into the hall, across which were the card-rooms. Towards these Madam Trevor, with Mrs. Harwood and Mr. King, was making her way, chatting volubly. As Lucy and her cavalier passed these three, the gentleman stopped her, smiling: