At Love's Cost

"Well, there can't be any doubt as to your friend's good looks," she

said. "She made rather a striking, not to say startling figure perched

sideways on that horse, in the pelting rain. I suppose she is one of

your neighbours?"

"Yes," replied Stafford, as easily and casually as he could, for the

face still floated before him--"yes; but not a very near one. Let me

give you some more wine."

"No, thanks. Father, haven't you nearly finished? Mr. Orme has kept us

company so nicely that we've been tempted to forget that we are keeping

him from his guests."

She rose, and with a peculiarly sinuous movement threw out the train of

her dress, and swept languidly to the door Stafford offered her his arm

and they entered the drawing-room.

Her appearance naturally caused a little sensation, for some of the men

had learnt and told of the story of Stafford's plucky arrest of the

bolting horses, and the people were curious to see the father and

daughter who had been rescued, and who had proved to be friends of Sir

Stephen.

By a sort of tacit understanding, Lady Clausford, who was a

good-natured individual, was playing the part of hostess and general

chaperon, and Stafford led Miss Falconer up to her.

Before a quarter of an hour had passed Miss Falconer seemed to be quite

at home in her novel surroundings; and leaning back in her chair, and

slowly fanning herself, received with perfect self-possession the

attentions which her beauty, her costly dress, and her still more

costly jewels merited. Presently Stafford heard Lady Clansford ask her

to sing; and he went to conduct her to the piano.

"My music is upstairs in my box--but it does not matter: I will try and

remember something," she said. "I wonder what you like?" She raised her

eyes to his, as her fingers touched the keys. "The simple ballad would

be rather out of place, wouldn't it? Do you know this thing of

Wagner's?"

As she began to sing the talking died down and gradually ceased; and

every eye was fixed upon her; for it was evident that she not only had

an exquisite voice, but knew how to use it. She sang like an artist,

and apparently without the least effort, the liquid notes flowing from

her red lips like the water of a mountain rill.

Stafford was surprised, almost startled, but as he stood beside her, he

was thinking, strangely enough, not so much of the singer as of the

girl he was going to meet on the morrow. When she had finished, there

was a general murmur of applause, and Lady Clansford glided to the

piano and asked her to sing again.