"What is her name?" asked Nell, who had not caught it.
He did not hear the question, for the music had struck up again, and
with a bow he went off to his next partner. It was evident to Nell that
the beauty was not known to Lady Maltby, for Nell saw the other lady
introducing them. Nell felt half fascinated by the new arrival, and sat
and watched her, looking at her as intently as one gazes at something
quite new and strange which has swung suddenly into one's own ken.
Nell was engaged for that dance, but her partner did not turn up. She
was not sorry, for she wanted to rest; the room was hot, and, though she
was by no means tired, she was not eager to dance the waltz--unless it
were to be danced with Drake. She was sitting not very far from the
window; some considerate soul had opened it a little, and Nell got up
and went to it and looked out. It opened onto a wide terrace; the stars
were shining brightly, the night air came to her softly and wooingly.
How nice it would be to go out there! Perhaps if she stole out, and
waited, presently Drake would come into the ballroom, and, missing her,
would come in search of her, for he would guess that she would be out
there, and they would have a few minutes by themselves under the starlit
sky. It was worth trying for.
She went out, without opening the window any wider, and leaning on the
stone coping, looked up at the sky, and then to where, far away, the few
lights which were still burning showed her where Shorne Mills nestled
amid its trees.
As long as life lasted she would never be able to think of Shorne Mills
without thinking of Drake; she thought of him now, and longed for him;
and as she heard the window open wider she turned with a little throb of
expectation. But instead of Drake's tall figure, two ladies came out.
Nell recognized the beauty by her dress, and saw that the lady who was
with her was the one who had accompanied her to the ball.
Nell's disappointment was so acute as to embarrass her for a moment,
and, reluctant, with a girl's shyness, to be found there alone, she
rather foolishly drew back quietly into the shadow accentuated by the
contrast of the light streaming from the half-open window. She retreated
as far as the corner of the terrace, and, finding a seat there, over
which she had nearly stumbled, she sank into it. Beside her was a marble
statue of the god Pan. The pedestal almost, if not quite, concealed her;
and, although she was already ashamed of having taken flight, so to
speak, she decided to remain where she was until the other two women
returned to the ballroom, or Drake came out and she could call to him.