He bowed, and offered his arm as he spoke, with the utmost deference; and Miss Rivers, with one quick, surprised glance, took it in silence.
"You remembered your promise to me?" asked Wilton, as they passed through the conservatory.
"Scarcely," she replied, with a slight smile. "I did not think of it till you spoke."
"And had I been a little later I should have found you waltzing with some more fortunate fellow?"
"Yes, very likely, had any one else asked me. You see," apologetically, "I am very fond of dancing, and I know so few—or rather I know no one—so had you not come, and I had waited for you, I might never have danced at all."
"But you knew I would come," exclaimed Wilton, eagerly.
Miss Rivers shook her head, raising her eyes to his with the first approach to anything like coquetry he had ever noticed in her, though playfulness would be the truer description.
"You knew I would come," he repeated.
"Indeed I did not."
These words brought them to the ball-room, and as they stepped out into the light and fragrance of the bright, well-filled, decorated room, Wilton's companion uttered a low exclamation of delight.