I was aghast. The outburst was so uncalled for,—I had not the faintest notion what I had said or done to cause it; she was in such a surprising passion—and it suited her!—I thought I had never seen her look prettier,—I could do nothing else but stare. So she went on,—with just as little reason.
‘Here is someone coming to claim this dance,—I can’t throw all my partners over. Have I offended you so irremediably that it will be impossible for you to dance with me again?’
‘Miss Grayling!—I shall be only too delighted.’ She handed me her card. ‘Which may I have?’
‘For your own sake you had better place it as far off as you possibly can.’
‘They all seem taken.’
‘That doesn’t matter; strike off any name you please, anywhere and put your own instead.’
It was giving me an almost embarrassingly free hand. I booked myself for the next waltz but two,—who it was who would have to give way to me I did not trouble to inquire.
‘Mr Atherton!—Is that you?’
It was,—it was also she. It was Marjorie! And so soon as I saw her I knew that there was only one woman in the world for me,—the mere sight of her sent the blood tingling through my veins. Turning to her attendant cavalier, she dismissed him with a bow.
‘Is there an empty chair?’