Marion was left to herself. She felt lonesome, in spite of the gaiety
around her, and realized that there is no loneliness so deep as that
which comes amid merriment one cannot join. She looked about at the
pretty faces and the brilliant colors made brighter by the lights; she
saw the sparkling eyes and glittering diamonds, she heard merry laughter
mingling with the rattling dishes and scurrying feet, but all seemed
hollow and far away. She knew that she had just been brought under the
influence of an unknown power, and she was faintly endeavoring to
collect her senses and understand herself. Almost unwarned she had felt
impetuous love flash forth in her heart, and now, in a dazed sort of
way, she was trying to bring her mind to act. She was impressionable and
reckless, but not so reckless as quite to forget her position. One
thought grew strongest in her mind; it was fear. She was brought back to
her surroundings by a remark addressed to her by Mrs. McSeeney: "You
look quite pale, my dear, are you ill?"

"Not in the least," replied Marion, smiling faintly, "but this room
seems close. Don't you think so?"

"I had not noticed it," was the answer spoken equivocally.

The supper was somehow worried through. As they were leaving the table
Walter Sedger said: "I have saved the seats of head couple for you, Mrs.
Sanderson; if you will come with me, I will show them to you. I lead
alone, but I hope you will permit me to take you out for an occasional
extra turn."

"I shall be delighted," Marion replied. Sedger gave her his arm, and
Duncan, glowering more than ever, was obliged to wander on behind.

The musicians' gallery did not project into the ball-room, but was
supported by columns in the hall outside. Just under it an attractive
nook had been arranged, with palms and foliage plants, a rug and a
divan. The lights were kept low and the palms were so thickly placed as
almost to conceal the people who might chance to sit there. At each side
of this recess was a door leading into the ball-room, and as Marion and
her two companions were passing through the one at the right, they met
Florence Moreland and Roswell Sanderson coming out.

"I am looking for my fan, Mr. Grahame," said Florence, stopping. "Don't
you want to help me search for it?"

"Of course I do, and I'll wager I find it," said Duncan, walking
directly toward the nook just described.

"You need not express your disapproval of me so pointedly," called
Flore