"That tedious tragedy has given me a headache," remarked Miss Chressham, seating herself on one of the gilt chairs. A number of violins were playing, and the air was pleasantly heavy with the scent of hot-house roses and syringa.
"La, look at that beauty there!" cried Miss Westbrook.
Susannah glanced round; she coloured.
"Do you not know her? 'Tis Miss Trefusis."
"Ah, then a swinging fortune, too!" said Helen Westbrook.
Susannah understood her tone, but her answer closed the subject.
"There is Captain Lestrange coming for you, my dear; you promised to be of his party at a game of faro. If you see my lady tell her that I am waiting here."
Miss Westbrook laughed and moved away into the crowd. Susannah rested her elbow on the table and put her hand over her eyes. The glitter of the chandeliers, the gleaming of the gilt and satin walls, the bright colours of the dresses hurt her eyes.
She sat so for a while, indifferent to the crowd that passed and repassed, aware of the music, but listening to the insistent clamour of her own agitated thoughts. When she at last looked up it was to see my lord, splendidly dressed in white and silver and conspicuously attended by those eager to be in the fashion, entering the room.
Her vacant look was replaced by one of eagerness. She made a motion with her black fan. He saw it at once, left those who crowded round him and crossed over to her.