"All right--thanks!" he said.

He made his way through the group, who were too engrossed and excited

to notice his desertion and went into the ball-room. As he did so, his

father entered by an opposite door, and seeing him, came round to him,

and taking Stafford's hand that hung at his side, pressed it

significantly.

"I have told them!" he said. "They are almost off their heads with

delight--you see, it's such a big thing, even for them, Staff! You have

saved us all, my boy; but it is only I and Falconer who know it, only I

who can show my gratitude!"

Advertisement..

His voice was low and tremulous, his face flushed, like those of the

men whom Stafford had just left, and his dark eyes flashing and

restless.

"Where are they all?" he asked; and Stafford nodded over his shoulder

towards the buffet.

Sir Stephen looked round the room with a smile of triumph, and his

glance rested on Maude Falconer, standing by a marble column, her eyes

downcast, her fan moving to and fro in front of her white bosom.

"She is beautiful, Staff!" he whispered. "The loveliest woman in the

room! I am not surprised that you should have fallen in love with her."

Stafford laughed under his breath, a strangely wild and bitter laugh,

which Sir Stephen could not have failed to notice if the music had not

commenced a new waltz at that moment.

Stafford went straight across the room to Maude Falconer. She did not

raise her eyes at his approach, but the colour flickered in her cheeks.

"This is our dance, I think," he said.

She looked up with a little air of surprise, and consulted her

programme.

"No; I think this is mine, Miss Falconer," said the man at her side.

"No," she said, calmly; "the next is yours, Lord Bannerdale; this is

Mr. Orme's."

Though he knew she was wrong, of course Lord Bannerdale acquiesced with

a bow and a smile, and Stafford led Maude away.

Wine has a trick of getting into some men's feet and promptly giving

them away; but Stafford, though he was usually one of the most moderate

of men, could drink a fairly large quantity and remain as steady as a

rock. No one, watching him dance, would have known that he had drunk

far too many glasses of champagne and that his head was burning, his

heart thumping furiously; but though his step was as faultless as usual

and he steered her dexterously through this crowd. Maude knew by his

silence, by his flushed face and restless eyes, that something had

happened, and that he was under the influence of some deep emotion. He

was dancing quite perfectly, but mechanically, like a man in a dream,

and though he must have heard the music, he did not hear her when she

spoke to him, but looked straight before him as if he were entirely

absorbed in some thought.




Most Popular