VOLUME II
43. CHAPTER XLIII
(continued)
Pansy, who seldom got disarranged in dancing, looking perfectly
fresh and cool after this exercise, waited a moment and then took
back her bouquet. Isabel watched her and saw she was counting the
flowers; whereupon she said to herself that decidedly there were
deeper forces at play than she had recognised. Pansy had seen
Rosier turn away, but she said nothing to Isabel about him; she
talked only of her partner, after he had made his bow and
retired; of the music, the floor, the rare misfortune of having
already torn her dress. Isabel was sure, however, she had
discovered her lover to have abstracted a flower; though this
knowledge was not needed to account for the dutiful grace with
which she responded to the appeal of her next partner. That
perfect amenity under acute constraint was part of a larger
system. She was again led forth by a flushed young man, this time
carrying her bouquet; and she had not been absent many minutes
when Isabel saw Lord Warburton advancing through the crowd. He
presently drew near and bade her good-evening; she had not seen
him since the day before. He looked about him, and then "Where's
the little maid?" he asked. It was in this manner that he had
formed the harmless habit of alluding to Miss Osmond.
"She's dancing," said Isabel. "You'll see her somewhere."
He looked among the dancers and at last caught Pansy's eye. "She
sees me, but she won't notice me," he then remarked. "Are you not
dancing?"
"As you see, I'm a wall-flower."
"Won't you dance with me?"
"Thank you; I'd rather you should dance with the little maid."
"One needn't prevent the other--especially as she's engaged."
"She's not engaged for everything, and you can reserve yourself.
She dances very hard, and you'll be the fresher."
|