"Unpardonable," said the gallant colonel. "At his age I should have known better. Oleander, make your peace if you can."
The colonel made his bow, and then he walked away.
Dr. Oleander drew her arm inside his own, bending very low over the sparkling sprite.
"You are not implacable, I trust, Miss Mollie. It was all the colonel's fault, I assure you."
Mollie shrugged her shoulders.
"Of course you say so. Oh, don't wear that imploring face! I forgive you; but sin no more. There! they are waiting—come!"
All through the dance Miss Dane sparkled as she had never sparkled Before. Ere the quadrille was over, Dr. Oleander was ten fathoms deeper in love than ever.
"It is so very hot here!" Mollie exclaimed, impatiently—"perfectly stifling! Do let us go somewhere and get cool."
"Let us go into the conservatory," said Dr. Oleander, delightedly, quite unconscious that his fair enslaver was playing into his hand. "We are sure to find solitude and coolness there."
The conservatory was delightfully cool, after the African temperature of the ball-room. Alabaster lamps shed a pale sort of moonlight over the sleeping flowers, and splashing fountains, and marble goddesses.