What more could her heart desire? Graydon
conducted her to her chaperon, near whom half a dozen gentlemen were
waiting for a chance to be his successor; and, having obtained
her promise for another dance later in the evening, he turned
deprecatingly to Madge. His apologies ceased before they were half
spoken. She looked so white and ill that he was alarmed, and asked
permission to get her a glass of wine.
"No, Graydon," she said, then hesitated, for she felt the color coming
into her face, while a strange blur confused every object in the room.
"I'm very, very sorry," she added, hastily, after a moment. "I ought
not to have come. I'm not equal to this. It wouldn't take you very
long to drive home with me, and then you could return. Please,
Graydon."
Her tone was so urgent, and she appeared so weak, that he complied at
once, saying, with much compunction, "I should not have left you alone
so long, but supposed you were amusing yourself by looking at the
people."
She did not trust herself to reply. Her one thought was to reach the
refuge of her own apartment, and to this end she concentrated her
failing energies. The climb to the ladies' dressing-room was a
desperate effort; but when she was once outside the house the cold,
pure air revived her slightly.
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