The Hoyden Part 37

"Oh no, neither do I," says a pretty little woman next to her, a bride of a few weeks, who, with her husband, has just come up.

"I have you on my side then, Lady Selton?" says Mrs. Chichester.

Lady Selton nods her reply. She is panting, and fanning herself audibly. Without the slightest ear for music, she has been plunging round the room with her husband, who is still so far infatuated as to half believe she can dance. She is an extremely pretty woman, so one can condone his idiocy.

At this moment Hescott appears. He goes straight to the bride. He has been sent, indeed, by Lady Warbeck.

"Will you give me the pleasure of this dance, Lady Selton?" asks he.

"It? What is it?" nervously.

"A waltz."

He is smiling at her. She has a charming figure. Of course she can dance. Tom Hescott would not have asked the loveliest woman in the land to waltz with him, if he knew her to be a bad dancer.

"I can't waltz at all," says the bride. But her husband comes to the rescue.

"Oh, nonsense!" says he, smilingly. "Hescott dances so well that he will teach you. Go, go with him." He gives her a playful little push towards Hescott, who is looking very blank. "You'll get into it in no time."

"Get into it."

The disgust that is writ so large on Hescott's face, as he leads her away, makes Mrs. Chichester shake with laughter.

"He'll find it a slight difference after Lady Rylton's waltzing,"

says she to Marryatt.

"He'll find a difference in every way. Lady Selton is devoted to her husband----"

"And Lady Rylton----"

_"Well!"_ He hesitates.

"How vague! But I know, I know! By-the-bye," with a swift change of tone that quite deceives him, "which do you admire most?"

"Oh, Lady Rylton, of course. Lady Selton is pretty--in a way--but----"

"Then you prefer the woman who is _not_ devoted to her husband?"

"I don't see how that argument comes in," says he quickly. "Some husbands are--are----"

"Quite true. They are indeed," interrupts Mrs. Chichester, who seems to be enjoying herself. "But what an aspersion on poor Sir Maurice."

"I wasn't thinking of him," says Marryatt hurriedly.

"Of whom then?"

She fixes her eyes full on his--eyes merry with mischief.

"Oh, I don't know," says he confusedly.

"Of _my_ husband?"

"Mrs. Chichester, I don't think----"

"That's right," says she, rising and slipping her arm into his.

"Never think; it's about the most foolish thing anyone can do. _I _never think. I only wait; waiting is full of promise."

CHAPTER XXII.

HOW RYLTON ASKS HIS WIFE TO TREAD A MEASURE WITH HIM, AND HOW THE FATES WEAVE A LITTLE MESH FOR t.i.tA'S PRETTY FEET.

"Will you give me this dance, t.i.ta?" asks Sir Maurice, going up to his wife.

t.i.ta is standing in a recess near the window. The window is wide open, and filled at each corner with giant ferns in pots.

"Ye--es," says t.i.ta, with hesitation.

"Of course, if you are engaged----"

"That's it, I'm not quite sure."

Rylton laughs unpleasantly.

"Oh, if you want to give it to somebody else----"

"I don't," returns t.i.ta calmly. "You dance better than anyone here, except Tom."

"Perhaps, then, you wish to reserve it for Tom? I see you have already danced a good deal with Tom."

"It is such a pleasure to dance with him," says she enthusiastically.

"One can see how you regard it."

"What do you mean?" looking at him. "Have I danced too much with him?

If you imagine----"

"I shouldn't presume to imagine. But this dance, why can't I have it?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, I've lost my card. I can't think what I have done with it."

"Dropped it, perhaps."

"No; I _fancy"_--frowning as if trying to remember--"that I gave it to somebody to keep for me."

"Tom, perhaps," dryly.