companied by her nephew, had hurried away, Missy
had an impulse to wander alone, for a moment, out into the deliciously
alluring night. She loved the night always, but just now it looked
indescribably beautiful. The grounds were deserted, but the lanterns,
quivering in the breeze, seemed to be huge live glow-worms suspended
up there in the dark. It was enchantment. Stepping lightly, holding her
breath, sniffing at unseen scents, hearing laughter and dance music from
far away as if in another world, she penetrated farther and farther
into the shadows. An orange-coloured moon was pushing its way over the
horizon, so close she could surely reach out her hands and touch it!

And then, too near to belong to any other world, and quite distinctly,
she heard a voice beyond the rose arbour:

"Oh, yes! Words sound well! But the fact remains you didn't ask me for
the first dance."

Missy knew that drawling yet strangely assured voice. Almost, with
its tones, she could see the languorously uplifted eyes, the provoking
little gesture of fan at lips. Before she could move, whether to advance
or to flee, Raymond replied:

"I wanted to ask you--you know I wanted to ask you!"

"Oh, yes, you did!" replied the visiting girl ironically.

"I did!" protested Raymond.

"Well, why didn't you then?"

"I'd already asked somebody else. I couldn't!"

And then the visiting girl laughed strangely. Missy knew she knew
with whom Raymond had danced that first dance. Why did she laugh? And
Raymond--oh, oh! She had seemed to grow rooted to the ground, unable
to get away; her heart, her breathing, seemed to petrify too; they hurt
her. Why had Raymond danced with her if he didn't want to? And why, why
did that girl laugh? She suddenly felt that she must let them know that
she heard them, that she must ask why! And, in order not to exclaim the
question against her will, she covered her mouth with both hands, and
crept silently away from the rose arbour.

Without any definite purpose, borne along by an inner whirlwind of
suppressed sobs and utter despair, Missy finally found herself
nearer the entrance gate, Fortunately there was nobody to see her;
everyone--except those two--was back up there in the glare and noise,
laughing and dancing. Laughing and dancing--oh, oh! What ages ago it
seemed when she too had laughed and danced!

Oh, why hadn't she gone home with Mrs. Allen and Kitty before her silly
pleasure had turned to anguish? But, of course