“Unfortunately I must,” said Margaret, conscious of the insincerity of the qualifying term, and yet too grateful to Louis for preparing her for this contingency to feel very contrite on account of it. “I have already pledged myself elsewhere.” “How tiresome!” said Mrs. Vere, darting a suspicious glance at Louis, which he met with imperturbable gravity. “By-the-way, I called on you while you were in Baltimore. I suppose you got my card.” And, without waiting for an answer, she moved away, on Decourcy’s arm, saying, as if half involuntarily: “I detest that man.” Decourcy, who was looking somewhat preoccupied, made no answer, until she gave his arm a little jerk and said, with the petulance of a child: “What’s the matter with you? Why don’t you speak?” “What can I say, except that I feel deeply sorry for poor Gaston, and appropriately grateful that I do not happen to be in his place.” He spoke in his softest tones, but Mrs. Vere knew instinctively that her spell was, for the time being, broken. Well! it had been broken before, she reflected, and she had always succeeded in mending it, and she felt confident she could do so again. Meantime, as Margaret and Louis walked away, to look for Mrs. Gaston, the former said: “Was it not rather odd that Mrs. Vere didn’t ask you to join her party?” “She did,” said Louis. “She wrote me a note, which was forwarded to me in New York.” “And what did you do?” asked Margaret. “Excused myself on the score of another engagement.” “But you didn’t----” she began, and then stopped with uplifted eyebrows. “I know,” he answered, smiling; “but I foresaw at least the possibility that you would be propitious.” “I think she’s angry with you about it.” “Very likely. She’s been angry with me before.” “I didn’t know, until to-night, that she was an old friend of Alan’s,” said Margaret. “Oh yes,” he answered, indifferently; “it’s an affair of long standing, I hear.” “What do you mean?” said Margaret, facing him with a sudden surprise, and then, remembering the scene she had witnessed in the conservatory, she averted her eyes, and was silent. “I merely meant,” he answered, in a tone of quick regret, “that I happened to hear Waring say that they were friends in London, last year. Mr. and Mrs. Vere spent the season there, and your cousin happening to be there also, naturally saw them often--all being Americans together.” At this point they caught sight of Mrs. Gaston, and Margaret hastened to join her, and so the subject was very willingly dropped by them both. Cousin Eugenia declared and reiterated that Margaret had been a shining success at this ball, but of that the girl thought and cared little. But for many days to come, the recurring thoughts of that evening brought with them certain memories that rankled, as well as certain others that comforted and soothed. CHAPTER XIV.