In Her Own Right Part 35

"Was I in blue?" she asked.

"You were--and looking particularly fit."

"Was that the first time you had noticed it?" she questioned blandly.

"Do you think so?" he returned.

"I am asking you, sir."

"Do I impress you as being blind?"

"No, you most a.s.suredly do not!" she laughed.

He looked at her with daring eyes.

"Yes!" she said, "I know you're intrepid--but you _won't_!"

"Why?--why won't I?"

"Because, it would be false to your friend. You have given me to him."

"I have given you to him!" he exclaimed, with denying intonation.

"Yes!--as between you two, you have renounced, in his favor."

"I protest!"

"At least, I so view it," with a teasingly fascinating smile.

"I protest!" he repeated.

"I heard you."

"I protest!" he reiterated.

"Don't you think that you protest over-much?" she inquired sweetly.

"If we were two children, I'd say: 'You think you're smart, don't you?'"

"And I'd retort: 'You got left, didn't you?'"

Then they both laughed.

"Seriously, however--do you really expect Mr. Macloud?" she asked.

"I surely do--probably within two days; and I'm not chaffing when I say that you're the inducement. So, be good to him--he's got more than enough for two, I can a.s.sure you."

"Mercenary!" she laughed.

"No--just careful!" he answered.

"And what number am I--the twenty-first, or thereabout?"

"What matters it, if you're _the_ one, at present?"

She raised her shoulders in the slightest shrug.

"I'd sooner be the present one than all the has-beens," he insisted.

"Opinions differ," she remarked.

"If it will advantage any----"

"I didn't say so," she interrupted.

"----I can tell you----"

"Many fables, I don't doubt!" she cut in, again.

"----that we have been rather intimate, for a few years, and I have never before known him to exhibit particular interest in any woman."

"'Why don't you speak for yourself, John,'" she quoted, merrily.

"Because, to be frank, I haven't enough for two," he answered, gayly.

But beneath the gayety, she thought she detected the faintest note of regret. So! there was some one!

And, woman-like, when he had gone, she wondered about her--whether she was dark or fair, tall or small, vivacious or reserved, flirtatious or sedate, rich or poor--and whether they loved each other--or whether it was he, alone, who loved--or whether he had not permitted himself to be carried so far--or whether--then, she dropped asleep.

Croyden went back to Clarendon, keeping a sharp look-out for anyone under the trees around the house. He found Moses in the library, evidently just aroused from slumber by the master's door key.

"No one's bin heah, seh, 'cep de boy wid dis 'spatch," he hastened to say.

Croyden tore open the envelope:--It was a wire from Macloud, that he would be down to-morrow.

"You may go to bed, Moses."

"Ya.s.s, seh! ya.s.s, seh!--I'se pow'ful glad yo's back, seh. Nothin' I kin git yo befo I goes?"

"Nothing!" said Croyden. "You're a good soldier, Moses, you didn't sleep on guard."

"No, seh! I keps wide awake, Marster Croyden, wide awake all de time, seh. Survent, seh!" and, with a bow, he disappeared.

Croyden finished his cigar, put out the light, and went slowly upstairs--giving not a thought to the Parmenter treasure nor the man he had met outside. His mind was busy with Elaine Cavendish--their last night on the moonlit piazza--the brief farewell--the lingering pressure of her fingers--the light in her eyes--the subdued pleasure, when they met unexpectedly in Annapolis--her little ways to detain him, keep him close to her--her instant defense of him at Mattison's scurrilous insinuation--the officers' hop--the rhythmic throb of the melody--the scented, fluttering body held close in his arms--the lowered head--the veiled eyes--the trembling lashes--his senses steeped in the fragrance of her beauty--the temptation well-nigh irresistible--his resolution almost gone--trembling--trembling----

The vision pa.s.sed--music ceased--the dance was ended. Sentiment vanished--reason reigned once more.