Edgerton stood behind Diana's chair, watching. Presently he went over to Silvette, lingered for a while, then came back to Diana again.
An hour later Mr. Rivett said abruptly: "Does anybody care to dance?"
The effect was like a pistol shot on lotus eaters. Slowly the players came out of their absorption; color returned faintly to white, tense faces.
"I suppose I may ask it?" added Mr. Rivett dryly. "I'm a heavy loser."
"Sure thing, dad," said Jack with a laugh. "I'm about even, and I venture to ask it, too. Does anybody here want to dance? You surely won't object," he added mischievously to Silvette.
"I have no right to say anything at all," she laughed.
"Every right—the right of the conqueror! Accept my bow and spear—and speak! ... How is it with your sister?"
"I'm afraid I haven't any voice in the matter, either," said Diana serenely. "It is for the losers to decide."
They decided to dance. Mrs. Rivett came from the dim music room and stood watching them with her little worn hands folded, while servants lighted and cleared the larger drawing-room, designed for a ballroom, with its little gilded balcony aloft and the great concert grand in its carved and gilded foliations sprawling like a bedizened elephant in the corner.
A servant was sent for "mademoiselle"—evidently somebody who lived somewhere in the house whose duties included dance music. Meanwhile Edgerton sat down at the piano, and began a fascinating Spanish waltz.