Beyond the Rocks

One person draws another, and soon Theodora had three or four around

her--all purring and talking frocks. And as she answered their questions

with gentle frankness, she wondered what everything meant. Did any of

them feel--did any of them love passionately as she did?--or were they

all dolls more or less bored and getting through life? And would she,

too, grow like them in time, and be able to play bridge with interest

until the small hours?

Later some of the party danced in the ballroom, which was beyond the

saloon the other way, and now a definite idea came to Hector as he held

Theodora in his arms in the waltz. They could not possibly bear this

life. Why should he not take her away--away from the smug grocer, and

then they could live their life in a dream of bliss in Italy, perhaps,

and later at Bracondale. He had a great position, and people soon forget

nowadays.

His pulses were bounding with these wild thoughts, born of their

nearness and the long hours of strain. To-morrow he would tell her of

them, but to-night--they would dance.

And Theodora felt her very soul melt within her. She was worn out with

conflicting emotions. She could not fight with inclination any longer.

Whatever he should say she would have to listen to--and agree with. She

felt almost faint. And so at the end of the first dance she managed to

whisper: "Hector, I am tired. I shall go to bed." And in truth when he looked at

her she was deadly white.

She stopped by her husband.

"Josiah," she said, "will you make my excuses to Lady Ada and Uncle

Patrick? I do not feel well; I am going to my room."

Hector's distress was intense. He could not carry her up in his arms as

he would have wished, he could not soothe and pet and caress her, or do

anything in the world but stand by and see Josiah fussing and

accompanying her to the stairs and on to her room. She hardly said the

word good-night to him, and her very lips were white. Wensleydown's

face, as he stood with Mildred, drove him mad with its mocking leer, and

if he had heard their conversation there might have been bloodshed.

Josiah returned to the saloon, and made his way to the bridge-room to

Sir Patrick and his hostess; but Hector still leaned against the door.

"He'll probably go out on the terrace and walk in the night by himself,"

thought the Crow, who had watched the scene, "and these dear people

will say he has gone to meet her, and it is a ruse her being ill. They

could not let such a chance slip, if they are both absent together."