And there were the Pink "uns, too, easily identified, having all sorts of a good time with a pair of maskers resembling Doucette Landon and Peter Tappan; and there in powder, paint, and patch capered the Beekmans, Ellises, and Montrosses--all the clans of the great and near-great of the country-side, gathering to join the eternal hunt for happiness where already the clarionets were sounding "Stole Away."
For the quarry in that hunt is a spectre; sighted, it steals away; and if one remains very, very still and listens, one may hear, far and faint, the undertone of phantom horns mocking the field that rides so gallantly.
"Stole away," whispered Duane in Kathleen"s ear, as he paused beside her; and she seemed to know what he meant, for she nodded, smiling:
"You mean that what we hunt is doomed to die when we ride it down?"
"Let us be in at the death, anyway," he said. "Kathleen, you"re charming and masked to perfection. It"s only that white skin of yours that betrays you; it always looks as though it were fragrant. Is that Geraldine surrounded three deep--over there under that oak-tree?"
"Yes; why are you so late, Duane? And I haven"t seen Rosalie, either."
He did not care to enlighten her, but stood laughing and twirling his sword-knot and looking across the glittering throng, where a daintily masked young girl stood defending herself with fan and bouquet against the persistence of her gallants. Then he shook out the lace at his gilded cuffs, dropped one palm on his sword-hilt, saluted Kathleen"s finger-tips with graceful precision, and sauntered toward Geraldine, dusting his nose with his filmy handkerchief--a most convincing replica of the bland epoch he impersonated.
As for Geraldine, she was certainly a very lovely incarnation of that self-satisfied and frivolous century; her success had already excited her a little; men seemed suddenly to have gone quite mad about her; and this and her own beauty were taking effect on her, producing an effect the more vivid, perhaps, because it was a reaction from the perplexities and tears of yesterday and the pa.s.sionate tension of the morning.
Within her breast the sense of impending pleasure stirred and fluttered deliciously with every breath of music; the confused happiness of being in love, the relief in relaxation from a sterner problem, the noisy carnival surging, rioting around her, men crowding about her, eager in admiration and rivalry, the knowledge of her own loveliness--all these set the warm blood racing through every vein, and tinted lip and cheek with a colour in brilliant contrast to the velvety masked eyes and the snow of the slender neck.
Through the gay tumult which rang ceaselessly around her, where she stood, plying her painted fan, her own laughter sounded at intervals, distinct in its refreshing purity, for it had always that crystalline quality under a caressing softness; but Duane, who had advanced now to the outer edge of the circle, detected in her voice no hint of that thrilling undertone which he had known, which he alone among men had ever awakened. Her gaiety was careless, irresponsible, childlike in its clarity; under her crescent mask the smiles on her smooth young face dawned and died out, brief as sun-spots flashing over snow. Briefer intervals of apparent detachment from everything succeeded them; a distrait survey of the lantern-lit dancers, a preoccupied glance at the man speaking to her, a lifting of the delicate eyebrows in smiling preoccupation. But always behind the black half-mask her eyes wandered throughout the throng as though seeking something hidden; and on her vivid lips the smile became fixed.
Whether or not she had seen him, Duane could not tell, but presently, as he forced a path toward her, she stirred, closed her fan, took a step forward, head a trifle lowered; and right of way was given her, as she moved slowly through the cl.u.s.ter of men, shaking her head in vexation to the whispered importunities murmured in her ear, answering each according to his folly--this man with a laugh, that with a gesture of hand or shoulder, but never turning to reply, never staying her feet until, pa.s.sing close to Duane, and not even looking at him:
"Where on earth have you been, Duane?"
"How did you know me?" he said, laughing; "you haven"t even looked at me yet."
"On peut voir sans regarder, Monsieur. Nous autres demoiselles, nous voyons tres bien, tres bien ... et nous ne regardons jamais."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "She dropped him a very low, very slow, very marvellous courtesy"]
She had paused, still not looking directly at him. Then she lifted her head.
"Everybody has asked me to dance; I"ve said yes to everybody, but I"ve waited for you," she said. "It will be that way all my life, I think."
"It has been that way with me, too," he said gaily. "Why should we wait any more?"
"Why are you so late?" she asked. She had missed Rosalie, too, but did not say so.
"I am rather late," he admitted carelessly; "can you give me this dance?"
She stepped nearer, turning her shoulder to the anxious lingerers, who involuntarily stepped back, leaving a cleared s.p.a.ce around them.
"Make me your very best bow," she whispered, "and take me. I"ve promised a dozen men, but it doesn"t matter."
He said in a low voice, "You darling!" and made her a very wonderful bow, and she dropped him a very low, very slow, very marvellous courtesy, and, rising, laid her fingers on his embroidered sleeve. Then turning, head held erect, and with a certain sweet insolence in the droop of her white lids, she looked at the men around her.
Gray said in a low voice to Dysart: "That"s as much as to admit that they"re engaged, isn"t it? When a girl doesn"t give a hoot what she does to other men, she"s nailed, isn"t she?"
Dysart did not answer; Rosalie, pa.s.sing on Grandcourt"s arm, caught the words and turned swiftly, looking over her shoulder at Geraldine.
But Geraldine and Duane had already forgotten the outer world; around them the music swelled; laughter and voice grew indistinct, receding, blending in the vague tumult of violins. They gazed upon each other with vast content.
"As a matter of fact," said Duane, "I don"t remember very well how to dance a minuet. I only wanted to be with you. We"ll sit it out if you"re afraid I"ll make a holy show of you."
"Oh, dear," said Geraldine in pretty distress, "and I let you beguile me when I"m dying to do this minuet. Duane, you _must_ try to remember!
_Everybody_ will be watching us." And as her quick ear caught the preliminary bars of the ancient and stately measure:
"It"s the Menuet d"Exaudet," she said hurriedly; "listen, I"ll instruct you as we move; I"ll sing it under my breath to the air of the violins,"
and, her hand in his, she took the first slow, dainty step in the old-time dance, humming the words as they moved forward:
"Gravement n.o.blement On s"avance; On fait trois pas de cote Deux battus, un jete Sans rompre la cadence----"
Then whispered, smiling:
"You are quite perfect, Duane; keep your head level, dear:
"Cha.s.sez Recha.s.sez En mesure!
Saluez-- Gravement n.o.blement On s"avance Sans rompre la cadence.
"Quite perfect, my handsome cavalier! Oh, we are doing it most beautifully"--with a deep, sweeping reverence; then rising, as he lifted her finger-tips: "You are stealing the rest of my heart," she said.
"Our betrothal dance," he whispered. "Shall it be so, dear?"
They looked at each other as though they stood there alone; the lovely old air of the Menuet d"Exaudet seemed to exhale from the tremulous violins like perfume floating through the woods; figures of masked dancers pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed them through the orange-tinted glow; there came a vast rustle of silk, a breezy murmur, the scented wind from opening fans, the rattle of swords, and the Menuet d"Exaudet ended with a dull roll of kettle-drums.
A few minutes later he had her in his arms in a deliciously wild waltz, a swinging, irresponsible, gipsy-like thing which set the blood coursing and pulses galloping.
Every succeeding dance she gave to him. Now and then a tiny cloud of powder-dust floated from her hair; a ribbon from her shoulder-knot whipped his face; her breath touched his lips; her voice, at intervals, thrilled and caressed his ears, a soft, breathless voice, which mounting exaltation had made unsteadily sweet.
"You know--dear--I"m dancing every dance with you--in the teeth of decency, the face of every convention, and defiance of every law of hospitality. I belong to my guests."
And again:
"Do you know, Duane, there"s a sort of a delicious madness coming over me. I"m all trembling under my skin with the overwhelming happiness of it all. I tell you it"s intoxicating me because I don"t know how to endure it."
He caught fire at her emotion; her palm was burning in his, her breath came irregularly, lips and cheeks were aflame, as they came to a breathless halt in the torchlight.
"Dear," she faltered, "I simply _must_ be decent to my guests.... I"m dying to dance with you again, but I can"t be so rude.... Oh, goodness!
here they come, hordes of them. I"ll give them a dance or two--anybody who speaks first, and then you"ll come and find me, won"t you?... Isn"t that enough to give them--two or three dances? Isn"t that doing my duty as chatelaine sufficiently?"
"Don"t give them any," he said with conviction. "They"ll know we"re engaged if you don"t----"
"Oh, Duane! We are only--only provisionally engaged," she said. "I am only on probation, dear. You know it can"t be announced until I--I"m fit to marry you----"
"What nonsense!" he interrupted, almost savagely. "You"re winning out; and even if you are not, I"ll marry you, anyway, and make you win!"
"We have talked that over----"
"Yes, and it is settled!"