CHAPTER IX
MY LORD ACTS
The contre-danse had come to an end. The Earl led Miss Trefusis back to her place, kissed her hand with a half-lazy glance into her languishing eyes, and turned slowly down the ballroom.
It was after supper, and everyone was unmasked. My lord, in no mood for the unrestrained gaieties of the crowd, stepped into the garden and heard the chimes of St. James's Church that Miss Chressham listened to in her darkened drawing-room. The garden was full of may trees and limes, brightly lit with coloured lamps and filled with the melody of violins that floated from the pavilion on the lake.
Rose Lyndwood, avoiding his acquaintances and choosing the less frequented paths, wandered down to the water's edge. He had no design nor intention in his mind, no one passion dominated his heart; but he was in the mood to meet anything that might arise. There was nothing reckless in his bearing. He walked quietly, slowly, his head bent and the pink domino falling from his shoulders. He held up his rapier that it might not catch in the laurels.
As he neared the water he paused to break from its stem a pale rose that fell across his path—a flower-like faint flame that seemed as if it had been created suddenly out of the darkness. When he looked up he saw Selina Boyle, standing a few feet away from him under a rosy lamp that cast a blushing radiance over her white dress. Beyond her the bushes falling apart revealed a lattice overgrown with jasmine, and a party of ladies and gentlemen laughing over a supper-table.
The Earl slipped the rose stem through the brooch in his cravat, and laughed.
Miss Boyle moved a little away; it seemed as if she would rejoin her companions without a word to him. Her delicate head was very erect above the folds of her fine scarf.
"What chance brought me here?" said the Earl softly. "Good luck or bad?"
She hesitated, stopped and looked at him as if she wished to speak but could not.