Mrs Edmonstone came up and welcomed her young friend.
“I am so glad you have come back,” she exclaimed, affectionately taking her hand. “I was quite vexed at your having to run away to a dinner-party, lest you should be too tired to dance this evening.”
Edda assured her that she was not. She, on this, turned round quickly to Ronald. “You dance, sometimes, Mr Morton, I know.”
“Yes,” he answered quickly, stepping forward and asking Miss Armytage to dance.
She smiled and promised.
The young stranger looked very much annoyed. He had fancied himself secure of her hand. Many men of rank and wealth would have been proud of the honour Ronald had obtained, though not more proud than he was. That evening was the brightest he had ever spent. But there were clouds in the horizon. He learned that Colonel Armytage had received a high appointment at Bombay, and that they were about at once to sail for that presidency, on board the “Osterley,” a Company’s ship, which was to touch there on her passage home.
“We sail in two weeks or so,” said Miss Armytage. “I shall be truly sorry to leave Calcutta.”
“I had little expected to find it so delightful a place,” answered Ronald.
Miss Armytage slightly blushed when he said this. Why, she could scarcely tell. Perhaps it was his manner—perhaps an unconscious look he gave. Though many sought her hand, she declined dancing again, in consequence of feeling tired, from having danced so much the previous evening.
Ronald was constantly by her side; for whenever he left it, he was quickly again attracted back; nor was he ever in want of an excuse for returning. Towards the end of the evening he observed the eyes of several people glancing towards him. It struck him that he formed the subject of conversation, especially among a group of military men. It was not, however, till he happened to meet Sims that his suspicions were confirmed.