"It was a nice dance," Theodora mused aloud. "But then, almost everything is nice. Only I missed you and Robert. A dance without Robert is like a salad without cayenne." "And a salad with cayenne?" "Is the chief joy of life's dinner." He brought the cup and she extended a slim, jeweled hand to receive it. Theodora had a somewhat oriental taste; odors of sandalwood and rose breathed from her laces, her white wrist sparkled with slender bracelets, and the high comb in her blonde hair held the glint of gems. "Why do you not laugh at my epigram?" she demanded. "Thank you; I would say you were adorable if you did not already know it. Please give me a biscuit, and give yourself some tea. Why are you so serious to-night?" "I had something to tell you, I think." She waved a commanding spoon. "Then sit down and begin." But Allard remained silent, regarding her. It was not easy to begin. Moreover, the glamour of the future had fallen away, leaving the naked ugliness; and he was held by a prescient certainty that to-night ended for ever this gracious life. [Illustration: Allard remained silent, regarding her.] "Robert is not up?" Theodora queried presently, too fine to insist on the suggested confidence. "No. Are you sorry, Theo?" Surprised at the tone, she glanced up, but the shadows were heavy where he sat. "Why, yes, of course." And recovering herself, "Certainly; how could we exist without him?" "How, indeed?" he echoed, rather too quietly for naturalness. "Suppose he were to go away?" "I should expire immediately of ennui. You see, he and I have a bond of frivolity; while against you we all lean for support. You are very supporting, John; now, this tea," she laughed gleefully. "Robert probably would have pressed champagne upon me, because it is less trouble to get." "You might have made tea yourself," he suggested, drawing a branch of the wistaria to shade his face more completely. "I hate to do things for myself. I hope that I never will have to." "I hope not. But I promised to tell you something. I am going on a trip to South America; part business, part restlessness." "You!" "Why not? I can not play all the time, you know, not being a girl myself. I may be away only a few months, or--much longer. But let me be quite frank; surely you are aware Robert loves you, Theo. If I should not be home before you are married, still you will understand how much good I wish you both, and remember that I said this now. Forgive me for speaking of this; it is ventured because I start to-morrow." She sat very still, and he heard her hurried breathing in the hush. "I did not know you meant that," she said at last, her accents unsure. "Or you would not have confessed? Never mind my blundering interference, little cousin; I have no wish so dear as that you two should care for each other. You are not angry?" She rose abruptly to set down the cup, the shadows now a cloak for her.