He paced back and forth in the moonlight for some time, his footsteps making no sound on the velvety turf; but all at once, as he passed that evergreen circle, within which Josephine still sat, a sob fell upon his ear and startled him. He stopped to listen, and heard the sound repeated. With his usual energy and decision, he passed around to the entrance and approached the group of statuary to ascertain who was there.
At first he could see no one, for just then the moon was hidden by a cloud, and Josephine’s dress being white, her form blended with the marble and could not be distinguished, while she was so absorbed by her own emotions that she was not aware of Lord Carrol’s presence until he touched her on the shoulder and said:
“Pardon me, you are grieving; is your trouble anything that I can help?”
She sprang to her feet instantly and confronted him, her cheeks blazing hotly, her whole form trembling from the touch of his hand.
“Miss Richards!” he exclaimed, in surprise, as he recognized her, while involuntarily he recoiled from her, so unexpected and disagreeable—in his present frame of mind—was this meeting.
“I thought,” he added, “that you were in the ball-room enjoying yourself with the other merrymakers.”
She noticed the coldness of his tone, as well as his unconscious shrinking from her, and it cut her to the heart, while at the same time it aroused her anger.
“Enjoying myself!” she repeated, passionately and unguardedly; “the evening is spoiled for me; everything is spoiled—the world and my life. That mockery through which we have just passed has made me miserable.”
It was strange, he thought, that they should both feel thus.
“I regret that anything should have occurred to make you so unhappy,” he returned. “I hoped while you were the guest of my mother that nothing would transpire to mar the pleasure of any one. But,” he added, more cheerfully, “you must not allow that farce to oppress you thus. I do not, as I have said before, approve of making light of such serious things, and marriage, to me, seems like a sacred ordinance. But no harm was done, I trust; our friends were amused for a half hour; and really, Miss Richards,” he concluded, smilingly, “if, when you come to be married in earnest, you make as charming a bride as you did to-night, the happy man will be one to be envied.”