"Yes, Mistress Vaga! that was my chief regret, never out of my mind for a moment since. Many the night on watch and guard have I thought of you. Sleepless they would have been, even without duty to keep me awake." "But why all this, sir? Why should I be a cause to keep you awake?" She spoke in a tone that suddenly checked and chilled him. For the question recalled a fact he seemed to overlook, or had forgotten--that Vaga Powell had never acknowledged him in the light of a lover; never before given him permission to address words to her such as he was now speaking. "Ah!" he answered, with a disappointed air, "if you do not know why, 'tis not much use my telling you." Then adding, with a sigh, "I had hopes you would have understood me." She did understand him perfectly; knew his aspirations and their hopelessness. And never was she less inclined to give heed to them than at that moment. For close by she saw her cousin Clarisse by the side of his cousin Eustace, the two standing up as partners for a dance about to begin. If Reginald Trevor suffered the pangs of an unrequited love, Vaga Powell was in a very torment of jealousy. For the air and attitude of the other two seemed to speak of something more than the mere indifference of dancing partners. The Creole had hold of his arm, was hanging upon it, her eyes upturned to his face with a languishing, loving smile, which he appeared to reciprocate. Rather a pleasing sight to Reginald, for reasons that just then presented themselves. But a painful one to her with whom he was conversing--torture itself. All at once a thought occurred to her, which promised something, if not relief. Anyhow, it gave this and more to Reginald Trevor. For of the many seeking her hand for the dance, he was the one preferred, and with an alacrity that somewhat surprised, while delighting him. His delight would have been less could he have fathomed her motive and design. Little dreamt he of either, or that he was about to be utilised solely as a pawn for playing the game of _piques_. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. A CONTRADANZA. It was a _contredanse_; the "contradanza" of Spain transmitted through France to England, where it had become naturalised, and by a misapprehension of terms called "country dance" It was the _piece de resistance_ of the time, before the introduction of the cotillon, quadrille, and other "square" dances. The assemblage being a large one, several sets danced at the same time, inside the house and without, the music in a central position availing for all.