Fortunately Madame Clarence's own dance followed soon after Caroline's blunder, and the impression made by Madame was such as to sweep everything else into the background for the time being.
It certainly was a remarkable dance, and one that Madame had invented herself. Madame was dressed in a startling black frock embroidered with gold, and wore yellow earrings and a long chain of yellow beads, and bright yellow shoes and stockings. Madame's expressive hands played a great part in the dance, which, as previously mentioned, was remarkable—far more remarkable than beautiful. It seemed to Ellen, who gazed spellbound, as if Madame must surely end by breaking her neck, or one of her legs, so full of twists and curves was the dance; indeed, at times it was all Ellen could do to keep herself from giving little shrieks or crying 'oo-er' aloud. However, she enjoyed it immensely, and so did the rest of the audience, judging by the applause Madame received and the huge bouquets which suddenly appeared and were handed up to her as she came to bow her thanks, smiling delightedly and kissing her hand to the audience.
During the evening there was an interval in which coffee and cakes were handed round, and everybody became very chatty, and Madame wandered about among her guests conversing and receiving compliments. Ellen seemed to be fascinated by Madame, and followed her movements around the hall admiringly.
Beryl watched the evening's proceedings with sad, preoccupied eyes. She smiled and talked brightly enough when anyone spoke to her, but her face in repose wore an anxious, worried look. During the previous week her moods of depression had been very frequent, and worse than usual, for even her music had been neglected and the piano had been closed and silent. She was enjoying the evening at Madame Clarence's, but she was not by any means at ease. Pamela had noticed this and was a little puzzled. That Beryl was far from anxious for their six months' stay at Chequertrees to come to an end Pamela was aware; and she did not doubt that Beryl dreaded Miss Crabingway's return, because it meant Enfield and Aunt Laura for Beryl; but she felt that there was something more than the coming parting to account for Beryl's preoccupied manner and avoidance of any confidential talk with her.
Madame Clarence's successful evening coming at length to a close, Madame stood at the door again and shook hands effusively with her guests as they passed out, receiving more compliments, and herself telling every one how "vewy, vewy kind it was of them to come."
During the journey home Caroline was wrapped in gloom, but Isobel was in high good spirits and chatted and laughed excitedly, all thoughts of old Silas having been driven from her head—until the following morning when she returned the muslin dress to Pamela.
Finding, on examination, that her own silk dress was not irretrievably spoiled, but would come up as good as new when washed, Isobel decided to take no further steps to show her displeasure toward Silas.
"He's not worth taking any more bother about," Isobel decided, partly because she really felt that, and partly because she did not know exactly what to do to punish him—beyond reporting him to Miss Crabingway, which might lead to awkward questions about her own conduct, she realized.
And so Silas Sluff heard no more about the rubbish heap.
CHAPTER XVIII