"Now you will see," spoke Percivale, softly, "that Lohengrin did what I could not do; he left his—Elsa."
She did not answer; she could not. Ashamed of her late action, and with a tumult of strange new feelings stirring in her heart, she turned her head away from him, and would not speak again until the end of the opera.
"I want to offer an apology," said Percivale to Lady Mabel, as he arranged her cloak. "Will you condescend to drive back in a hansom? My coachman has rheumatism, and I told him he was not to come for us."
"Certainly. I have a great partiality for hansoms," answered Lady Mabel, readily; she was rather disconcerted, however, a moment later, to find that it was her brother who was at her elbow.
"Where is Elsa? Claud, you should have taken her," she said, rather irritably.
"I? Thanks, no. I don't care to force my company on a young lady who would rather be with the other fellow. No hurry, Mab. I want to light a cigar."
"Nonsense, Claud. Get me a cab at once. Am I to wait in this draughty place?"
"You must, unless you are prepared to walk in those shoes as far as the end of the street."
"But where are the other two? Are they behind?"
"No; got the start of us, I fancy," said Claud, with exasperating calmness. "Wait a moment. I will go out and catch a cab if you will stay here."