Meanwhile he maintained his mask before the world so
admirably that even Miss Wildmere little guessed the depth of his
revolt. He was the last one to reveal his bitter disappointment and
humiliating defeat to the vigilant gossips of the house. Those who saw
his smiling face and gallantries, and heard his breezy, half-cynical
words, little guessed the storm within. He had been taught in the best
school in the world how to say and look one thing and mean another.
At last an acquaintance approached, and said, "Pardon me, Mr. Arnault,
but I don't propose to permit you to monopolize Miss Wildmere all the
evening;" and then asked for the next dance.
Stella complied instantly, thinking, "Graydon may return now at any
moment, and if he sees that I am not with Arnault will come to me, as
usual."
Arnault bowed politely, looked at his watch, and invited another lady
to dance. Stella had been on the floor but a few moments when not
Graydon, but her father came and said to her partner, "Excuse me, sir.
I wish to speak to my daughter."
Requesting her companion to wait, she followed Mr. Wildmere through an
open window, and when on the piazza he took her hand and put it within
his arm with a firmness that permitted no resistance.
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