As he danced only once or twice with any one but Helena, he had ample opportunity of observing the general features of the entertainment, and he soon saw that Helena’s depression was but a part of that obvious more or less throughout the whole assembly. The rooms were dazzling, the decorations were unutterably gorgeous, the brilliance of the lights amounted to an absolute glare, and became oppressive and terrible. On all sides there was evidence of the most lavish expenditure; flowers, furniture, attendants, refreshments, all seemed to cry in loud and blatant voices, ‘Try us; we are of the very best. No stint here, because expense is no object, absolutely none at all.’ It would have been exceedingly amusing, and Sebastian was by no means slow to see the humorous side of ambitious entertainments of that kind; but the amusing part of it was quite overcome and swamped by the great and nameless cloud and oppression that hung over it all. What was the reason of that cloud? Surely not the simple fact that the master of the house was absent. That alone would have been a relief rather than otherwise. For he came not, and came not, and poor Mrs. Spenceley still looked ill at ease: and at last Sebastian noticed some one else begin to look ill at ease too, and to glance round with a suspicious, watchful air now and then. That person was Frederick Spenceley. Something was wrong, something lay behind it all, thought Sebastian, as he stood in the cool hall after his first dance with Helena, that is to say, between ten and eleven o’clock. During that dance they had quite forgotten to flout each other, or to do anything but enjoy themselves. He had said all he could to raise that nameless cloud from her face, and he had been startled to find what brilliant success had attended his efforts. Helena had soon smiled again, and had half confessed that she had kept the two dances for him, and had even blushed and laughed when he teased her about it. He was thinking of that waltz, and humming the tune to which they had danced as he paced about the hall, while he still seemed to feel Helena lightly resting in his arms, her fleet foot keeping pace with his; and he began to wish that he had not four whole dances to wait before his next one with her came. ‘She is very lovely, and there is something very bewitching about her,’ he said to himself for the second time that evening.