If she had slapped my face she could not have startled me more.  I had no notion if her words were uttered at random, but they came so near the truth they held me breathless.  It was a fact that only during the last few minutes had I really realised how things were with me,—­only since the end of that first waltz that the flame had burst out in my soul which was now consuming me.  She had read me by what seemed so like a flash of inspiration that I hardly knew what to say to her.  I tried to be stinging.

’You flatter me, Miss Lindon, you flatter me at every point.  Had you only discovered to me the state of your mind a little sooner I should not have discovered to you the state of mine at all.’

‘We will consider it terra incognita.’

‘Since you wish it.’  Her provoking calmness stung me,—­and the suspicion that she was laughing at me in her sleeve.  I gave her a glimpse of the cloven hoof.  ’But, at the same time, since you assert that you have so long been innocent, I beg that you will continue so no more.  At least, your innocence shall be without excuse.  For I wish you to understand that I love you, that I have loved you, that I shall love you.  Any understanding you may have with Mr Lessingham will not make the slightest difference.  I warn you, Miss Lindon, that, until death, you will have to write me down your lover.’

She looked at me, with wide open eyes,—­as if I almost frightened her.  To be frank, that was what I wished to do.

‘Mr Atherton!’

‘Miss Lindon?’

‘That is not like you at all.’

’We seem to be making each other’s acquaintance for the first time.’

She continued to gaze at me with her big eyes,—­which, to be candid, I found it difficult to meet.  On a sudden her face was lighted by a smile,—­which I resented.

’Not after all these years,—­not after all these years!  I know you, and though I daresay you’re not flawless, I fancy you’ll be found to ring pretty true.’

Her manner was almost sisterly,—­elder-sisterly.  I could have shaken her.  Hartridge coming to claim his dance gave me an opportunity to escape with such remnants of dignity as I could gather about me.  He dawdled up,—­his thumbs, as usual, in his waistcoat pockets.

‘I believe, Miss Lindon, this is our dance.’

She acknowledged it with a bow, and rose to take his arm.  I got up, and left her, without a word.

As I crossed the hall I chanced on Percy Woodville.  He was in his familiar state of fluster, and was gaping about him as if he had mislaid the Koh-i-noor, and wondered where in thunder it had got to.  When he saw it was I he caught me by the arm.

‘I say, Atherton, have you seen Miss Lindon?’

‘I have.’

’No!—­Have you?—­By Jove!—­Where?  I’ve been looking for her all over the place, except in the cellars and the attics,—­and I was just going to commence on them.  This is our dance.’