When at last he was able to leave the stricken house, having done all in his power to lighten the horror of the dreary hour, he was in no mood for gaiety, and for a few moments he meditated sending a message to say he was, after all, unable to be present at the dance.
Then the vision of Iris rose again before his eyes, and immediately everything else faded from his world, and he hastened to Greengates, arriving just as the clock struck eleven.
He saw her the moment he entered the room after greeting Sir Richard and Lady Laura in the hall. She was dancing with Cheniston, and Anstice had never seen her look more radiant.
She was wearing the very shimmering white frock in which he had pictured her, a filmy chiffon thing which set off her youthful beauty to its highest perfection; and the pearls which lay on her milky throat, the satin slippers which cased her slender feet, the bunch of lilies-of-the valley at her breast, were details in so charming a picture that others besides Anstice found her distractingly pretty to-night.
And as he noted her happy look, the air of serene content with which she yielded her slim form to her partner's guidance, the light in the grey eyes which smiled into Cheniston's face, Anstice's heart gave one bitter throb and then lay heavy as a stone in his breast.
He hardly doubted that she was won already; and in Cheniston's proud and assured bearing he thought he read the story of that winning.
As he stood against the wall, unconscious of the curious glances directed towards him, the music ceased, and the dancers came pouring out of the ballroom to seek the fresher air without.
Passing him on her partner's arm, Iris suddenly withdrew her hand and turned to greet the late comer.
"Dr. Anstice!" It seemed as though her inward happiness must needs find an outlet, so radiant was the smile with which she greeted him. "You have really come! I thought you had failed us after all."
"No--I was sent for, at the last moment." Something in his strained tone seemed to startle the girl, for her eyes dilated, and with an effort Anstice spoke more lightly. "I couldn't get away, Miss Wayne, but you won't visit my misfortunes on my head, will you? You promised me some dances----"
"One has had to go." She looked down at her card. "I kept the fifth for you, but you may have the next if you like. I did not engage myself for that, thinking"--she paused, then smiled at him frankly--"thinking you might come after all."