FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142  
143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   >>   >|  
own her glass of champagne; she thought she could no longer support the situation. She almost felt she hated Henry and his devotion,--it was paralyzing her, suffocating her--crushing her life. Michael never spoke to her--beyond a casual word--and at length they all went back to the ball-room, where an extra was being played--Michael, for a moment, standing by her side. Then a sudden madness came to them as their eyes met, and he held out his arm. "This is my dance, I think, Mrs. Howard," he said with careless sangfroid, and he whirled her away into the middle of the room. They both were perfect dancers and never stopped in their wild career until the music ended. It was a two-step, and all the young people clapped for the band to go on. So once more they started with the throng. They had not spoken a single word; it was a strange comfort to them just to be together--half anguish, half bliss--but as the last bars died away, Michael whispered in her ear: "I am going to say good-night to Rose. She is accustomed to my ways. I have ordered my motor, and I am going home to-night--I cannot bear it another single minute. If I stayed until to-morrow I should break my word. I love you to absolute distraction--Good-bye," and without waiting for her to answer he left her close to Henry and turning was lost in the crowd. Suddenly the whole room reeled to Sabine, the lights danced in her eyes, and a rushing sound came in her ears. She would have fallen forward only Lord Fordyce caught her arm, while he cried, in solicitous consternation: "My dearest, you have danced too much. You feel faint--let me take you out of all this into the cool." But Sabine pulled herself together and assured him she was all right--she had been giddy for a moment--he need not distress himself; and as they walked into the conservatory she protested vehemently that she had never been at so delightful a ball. CHAPTER XVIII A sobbing wind and a weeping rain beat round the walls of Arranstoun, and the great gray turrets and towers made a grim picture against the November sky, darkening toward late afternoon, as its master came through the postern gate and across the lawn to his private rooms. He had been tramping the moorland beyond the park without Binko or a gun, his thoughts too tempestuous to bear with even them. For the letter to Messrs. McDonald and Malden had gone, and the first act of the tragedy of his freedom had been begun. I
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142  
143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
Michael
 

moment

 

danced

 

Sabine

 

single

 
distress
 
walked
 

conservatory

 
assured
 

pulled


dearest

 

fallen

 
forward
 

rushing

 
Suddenly
 

reeled

 
lights
 
Fordyce
 

protested

 

caught


solicitous

 

consternation

 

tramping

 

moorland

 

private

 

postern

 

thoughts

 

tragedy

 

freedom

 

Malden


McDonald

 
tempestuous
 

letter

 

Messrs

 

master

 
weeping
 

sobbing

 
delightful
 

CHAPTER

 
Arranstoun

November
 

darkening

 
afternoon
 
picture
 

turrets

 

towers

 
vehemently
 

madness

 
standing
 

sudden