tering, nervous--something that prompted her as they neared
the building, and the little hand clinging to her father's arm shook
with strange excitement, to bend forward close to their friend and
hostess, and just as the latter was about to hail some young officer on
the steps, Lilian interposed. "Oh--please," was all she said, but her
fingers had caught the fluttering fold of the mantle, and Mrs. Crook
turned at once. "You'd rather not?" she asked, with quick, sympathetic
understanding. "I won't then. Plenty of time. Let's watch the dance
first."

And so saying she had marshalled them close to the southward windows,
Lilian and her father at the near-most, she and Mrs. Archer going on to
the next.

It was Keler Beler's "Am Schoenen Rhein" they were playing at the
moment, with its sweet, weird, luring, mournful, warning Lorelei
_motif_ dominating in the waltz measure, and, with parted lips and
clinging to her father's side, Lilian stood close to the window and
looked and listened, saying not one word. There were but three couples
dancing at the moment. There might as well have been but one for,
within the hall and without, the eyes of all seemed fastened on that.
Some strange caprice had prompted Evelyn Darrah to wear black that
night--a grenadine, with cobweb lace and glinting spangles and sweeping
train, the bodice cut low and displaying her shapely arms and neck and
shoulders, enhancing the grace of her tall and slender form. Her dark
hair was coiled in masses, yet here and there a curl or tendril fell
upon the soft, polished skin, or floated about cheek and temple. Her
eyelids, heavily lashed, veiled her downcast eyes. Her coral lips were
slightly parted. Her almost queenly head was bowed as though to incline
that little ear to catch the words he was eagerly pouring into it. Not
a vestige of a smile was on either face, each was dark, sombre,
beautiful, absorbed. His handsome head was bowed until the curling
mustache swept her rounded, flushing cheek. In exquisite rhythm and
harmony the two tall, graceful forms swayed in unison with the
exquisite love music, every step, every motion perfectly attuned. It
seemed as though no guiding were necessary. Slowly gliding, turning,
reversing, he in his faultless uniform, she in her sweeping, diaphanous
sable, seemed, without effort or the faintest exertion, fairly floating
upon air. No wonder they sat or stood and gazed--these elders along the
bordering benches--these others