“Oh, miss!” cried Johnson, in delight; “fancy my conducting myself like a gay Lothario, and asking any one else, when I have an offer from you!”
Rosamond was not used to blushing, but she coloured high at this. She did not see the fun of it as Eddy would have done. She had no sense of humour.
“If you will wait here till I am ready, I will dance with you,” she said.
Johnson had been very indignant and deeply disappointed, not to be introduced to “the big-wigs,” as Eddy had promised. But when Eddy’s beautiful sister proposed to him to dance with her, not even waiting to be asked, his feelings sustained a wonderful change. He relaxed his watch upon Eddy, and waited with wonderful patience for the blissful moment when he should take his place among that dazzling throng. With this before him, he could enjoy the sight and the ecstatic sensation of forming part of the assembly, even though he knew no big-wigs. When they saw him dancing with Miss Saumarez, who was one of the beauties, if not, Johnson thought, flattered and flattering, the beauty of the evening, they would change their minds about him. And indeed, the shabby little man made an extraordinary sensation when he joined, by the side of Miss Saumarez, the next quadrille. Who was he? where did he come from? everybody asked. And whispers ran among the throng, that a person so shabby, dancing with Miss Saumarez, one of the house party, must to the blood of the millionaires belong, and was probably the scion of a secondary Rothschild. Much curiosity was roused concerning him, and shabby as he looked, there is little doubt that after Rosamond he might have danced with almost any one he pleased. As a matter of fact, Archie, always good-natured, and unsuspicious of anything remarkable about Johnson, introduced him to several ladies, who did not object to allow him to inscribe his name upon their programmes. And Marion did more than this. She was just standing up with him for a waltz, and with her hand on his arm was about to enter the field, when another change occurred which made Johnson’s appearance and behaviour more extraordinary than ever. He suddenly stopped in the midst, just at the moment when he ought to have put his limp hand upon her waist, a contact which Rosamond had been unable to submit to, but which Marion, with her much less cultivated sense, found quite unobjectionable.
“Excuse me, miss, for a moment,” Johnson said, dropping her arm, and leaving her alone in the midst of the dancers.
He had seen something in the distance which made him turn pale. And it happened that at that moment, after so long and so ineffectually attempting to catch Eddy’s eye, he at last succeeded in doing so without the slightest difficulty. Eddy had been startled beyond expression by the sight of Johnson’s shabby figure by his sister’s side, and distracted by this sight from all idea of fun; and restraining with difficulty the impulse he had to seize the fellow by the shoulders and turn him out—which evidently he had no right to do—had followed him, no longer now with laughing eyes that saw every movement while appearing to see nothing, but with the furious gaze of the plotter upon whom the tables are turned. When Johnson started, shrank, and dropped Marion’s arm, Eddy, watching, saw the whole pantomime, and saw also the fellow’s almost imperceptible signal towards the window, which stood open behind its drawn curtains for the ventilation of the great warm, heated hall. Eddy turned his own sharp, suspicious eyes toward the spot at which Johnson had looked, and there he saw a somewhat startling sight—a man in morning dress, buttoned up in a warm overcoat, like a visitor newly arrived, standing at the hall door, and gazing with astonishment as at a totally unexpected scene. The sight startled him, though he did not know why. It could be nothing to him, so far as he knew. He did not know what it could be to Johnson. But he was startled. The man looked like some commercial functionary, business-like, and serious, surprised beyond measure to find himself suddenly introduced from the open air and quiet, frosty, chilly night, to the crowded ball-room with all its decorations.
Eddy made a dive through the throng towards the window, with an explanation to those around him that the draught was too much for Lady Jean.
“I must try and draw the curtains down,” he said, with a shrug of his shoulders at the unreasonableness of women. And in another moment was outside, standing under the brilliant cold stars, which looked down coldly upon this curious little unexpected effect.
“What’s the matter?” he said breathlessly to the other dark figure, conspicuous only by the whiteness of his large shirt, among the bushes.
“I don’t know,” said Johnson, “unless you’ve been at it again, Master Eddy. Did you see that man? that’s the clerk at the bank that cashed your cheque. I don’t know what brings him here, if you don’t. Anyhow, I thought it the best policy to slip away.”