"No," I return, calmly. "You give him credit for too much thoughtfulness. So far from dreaming of fatigue, he even asked me just now to dance with him--was not that self-denying of him?--but I only took one small turn. You forget I am not yet in proper training. I have had very little practice in my time." "Let me get you an ice. No? Some champagne, then? Iced water?" "Nothing thank you." "At least let me stay and talk to you." "I shall be glad of that. You never met any one with such a rooted objection to her own society as I have," I answer, laughing. Then the strain loosens; the smile dies off my lips. How ardently do I long to be alone! Why does not this man get up and leave me? At all events, Marmaduke will see I have repented of my ill temper, and am not dancing. As I sit moodily staring through the window at the gay scene within, it so happens the Duke of Chillington, with one or two other men, passes slowly by. "Our cousin of Chillington," says Sir Mark, with an amused air--he is a second cousin of his Grace--"has expressed himself enraptured with his hostess." I raise my eyebrows and betray some slight surprise. "I think you must mistake. When speaking to him, in the earlier part of the evening, he gave me to understand--politely, it is true, but none the less plainly--that he considered me a very mediocre sort of person." "In that case I fear we must believe his lordship to be an arch old hypocrite, as he told _me_ he thought your manner and expression above all praise." "Well, I think him a very stupid old gentleman," I reply, ungraciously. Sir Mark turns his eyes upon me thoughtfully. "Have you found that 'little rift' after all, Mrs. Carrington?" asks he gravely. "Yes--I suppose so," with impatience. Really the man grows very tiresome. "I must have been mad to hope we wretched mortals could have five whole hours of unbroken happiness." "True: 'Every white must have its blacke, And every sweete its soure.'" "Another quotation?" superciliously. I am not in an amiable mood. "You seem to have them ready for all emergencies. How closely you must attend to your poetical studies! How fond of them you must be!" "I am. Does that surprise you? Do you find a difficulty in associating me with polite verse?" He has his elbow on his knee; his fingers caress his heavy black mustache. He is regarding me with the profoundest interest. "I really never thought about it," I return, wearily, with a rather petulant movement of the head. Oh that this hateful ball was at an end! --- The last guest has departed. We of the household have gone up to our rooms. Now that it is all over, I feel strangely inclined to sit down and have a good cry. In the solitude of my own room Marmaduke's words and glances come back to me, making me miserable, now that excitement is no longer at hand to help me to forget. One by one they return with cruel clearness.