His smouldering anger, and the completeness of his power to protect her by a few decisive words, thrilled her with a new, inexplicable intensity,—an emotion that startled her a little, and in the same breath lifted her to an unreasoning height of happiness.
Unconsciously she pressed close against him as he put his arm round her.
"You're all safe now, my Ladybird," he said with a low laugh. "And honour is satisfied, I suppose! The creature wasn't worth knocking down, though I could hardly keep my fists off him at the start."
And he swept her forthwith into the heart of the many-coloured crowd.
The valse was more than half over now, and as the music slackened to its close some two hundred couples vanished into the surrounding dimness, each intent on their own few minutes of enjoyment. Evelyn Desmond, flushed, silent, palpitating, remained standing at her husband's side, till they were left practically alone under one of the many arches that surround the great hall.
"That was much too short, wasn't it?" he said. "Now we must go and look up Honor, and see that she is not left in the lurch."
At that she raised her eyes, and the soft shining in them lent a quite unusual beauty to her face.
"Must we, Theo,—really? Honor's sure to be all right, and I'm so badly wanting to sit out—with you."
"Are you, really? That's a charming confession to hear from one's wife. You look different to-night, Ladybird. What's come to you?"