Beyond the Rocks

"Why, there is the woman who was at the opera last night," exclaimed

Morella, at last. "How in the world did an outsider like that get here,

I wonder? She is quite pretty, close--don't you think so, Hector? Oh, I

forgot, you know her, of course; you talked to her last night, I

remember."

Hector did not answer; he was afraid to let himself speak.

Morella Winmarleigh was looking her best. A tonged, laced, flounced

best; and she was perfectly conscious of it, and pleased with herself

and her attractions.

She meant to keep Lord Bracondale with her for the rest of the evening

if possible, even if she had to descend to tricks scarcely flattering to

her own vanity.

"Do let us go for a walk," she said. "I have not yet seen the flower

decorations in the yellow salon, and I hear they are particularly

fine."

Hector by this time was beside himself at seeing Theodora converging

with her partner towards the large doors at the other end of the

ballroom.

"No," he said. "I am very sorry, but I am engaged for the next dance,

and must go and hunt up my partner. Where can I take you?"

Hector engaged for a dance? An unknown thing, and of course untrue. What

could this mean? Who would he dance with? That colonial creature? This

must be looked into and stopped at once.

Miss Winmarleigh's thin under-lip contracted, and a deeper red suffused

her blooming cheeks.

"I really don't know," she said. "I am quite lost, and I am afraid you

can't leave me until I find some one to take care of me." And she

giggled girlishly.

That such a large cow of a woman should want protection of any sort

seemed quite ridiculous to Hector--maddeningly ridiculous at the present

moment. Theodora had disappeared, having seen him standing there with

Morella Winmarleigh, who she had been told he was going to marry.

He was literally white with suppressed rage. The Royalty had

commandeered Anne, and among the dozens of people he knew there was not

one in sight with whom he could plant Morella Winmarleigh; so he gave

her his arm, and hurried along the way Theodora had disappeared.

"Are you going to Beechleigh for Whitsuntide?" Morella asked. "I am, and

I think we shall have a delightful party."

Hector was not paying the least attention. Theodora was completely out

of sight now, and might be lost altogether, for all they were likely to

overtake her among this crowd and the numberless exits and entrances.