"That is it," said Theodora.
"Then you must dance with Hector--my brother," she said.
She launched his name suddenly; she wanted to see what effect it would
have on Theodora. "He is sure to be there, and he dances divinely."
She was rewarded for her thrust: just the faintest pink came into the
white velvet cheeks, and the blue eyes melted softly. To dance with
Hector! Ah! Then the radiance was replaced by a look of sadness, and she
said, quietly: "Oh, I do not think I shall dance at all. My husband is rather an
invalid, and we shall only go in for a little while."
No, she must not dance with Hector. Those joys were not for her--she
must not even think of it.
"How extraordinarily beautiful she is!" Anne thought, when presently,
the visit ended, she found herself rolling along in her electric
brougham towards the park. "And I feel I shall love her. I wonder what
her Christian name is?"
Theodora had promised they would lunch in Charles Street with her the
next day if her husband should be well enough after the ball. And Anne
decided to collect as many nice people to meet them as she could in the
time.
At the corner of Grosvenor Square she met an old friend, one Colonel
Lowerby, commonly called the Crow, and stopped to pick him up and take
him on with her.
He was the one person she wanted to talk to at this juncture. She had
known him all her life, and was accustomed to prattle to him on all
subjects. He was always safe, and gruff, and honest.
"I have just done something so interesting, Crow," she told him, as they
went along towards Regent's Park, to which sylvan spot she had directed
her chauffeur, to be more free to talk in peace to her companion. Some
of her friends were capable of making scandals, even about the dear old
Crow, she knew.
"And what have you done?" he asked.
"Of course you have heard the tale from Uncle Evermond, of Hector and
the lady at Monte Carlo?"
He nodded.
"Well, there is not a word of truth in it; he is in love, though, with
the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life--and I have just
been to call upon her. And to-morrow you have got to come to lunch to
meet her--and tell me what you think."
"Very well," said the Crow. "I was feeding elsewhere, but I always obey
you. Continue your narrative."