The room was now crowded to repletion, and she readily fell in with her partner’s suggestion that they should take a turn in the cooler atmosphere of the garden; and as she passed the threshold, a rapid, retrospective glance informed her that Eve was once more playing her arduous part of hostess.

Never had actress more anxiously awaited the fall of the curtain upon her scene.  Her husband, in the gallant russet of a falconer, was dancing now with Mrs. Dollond:  she could hear his frequent laughter, and, though she turned her eyes away, see him bending over his partner to catch the words, trivial enough no doubt, which she seemed to whisper with such an air of confidence.  But, though she had heard him address Mrs. Dollond by her Christian name, she did not pay him the compliment of being jealous:  the time for that had passed.  The account which she had to demand of him related to a matter far more serious than the most flagrant of flirtations—­she only longed to confront him, to tear from him a confession, not so much with a view to humiliate him as to enlighten herself, and to force him to make the only reparation in his power.

When the music had ceased, and the measured tread of feet lapsed into the confusion of independent wanderings, Eve turned to find her husband close behind her, and Mrs. Dollond firing off a neat little speech of congratulation, panting a little, and making play with her elaborate fan.

She was quick to seize the opportunity for which she had waited so eagerly; with a few words of smiling apology to Mrs. Dollond and the others who were gathered round her, she intimated to her husband that she wished him to come with her, to attend to something:  she assumed a playful air of mystery.

“Oh, you must go!” said Mrs. Dollond, “your wife is planning some delightful surprise for us:  I can see it in her eyes!  Though, what one could want more——­”

The music began again, and the couples took their places for the Lancers:  there was to be a Shakespearian set, and another of Waverley notabilities.

Under cover of the discussion and confusion which this scheme involved, Eve withdrew, leading the way into the room which they called the library, and which was full of superfluous furniture, removed from the drawing-room to make space for the dancers.  Her husband followed, lifting his eyebrows, with a chivalrous but not wholly successful attempt to disguise his impatience.

When he had closed the door, Eve turned suddenly and confronted him, interrupting the question which was on his lips.  He noticed, with a quick apprehension, that she was very pale, that the smile which she had worn for her guests had given place to an expression even more ominous than her pallor and the trembling of her lips.

“Why have I brought you here?” she echoed.  “I don’t know, I might have asked you before them all—­perhaps you would have preferred that!  But I won’t keep you long.  The truth!  That is all I want!”