er of a moment--had inflicted a smart upon her she
could hardly bear. They had made her feel herself so alone, unhappy,
uncared for!

But, on the contrary, she _must_ be happy!--_must_ be loved! To this,
and this only, had she been brought by the hard experience of this
strenuous year.

* * * * *

"Oh, Mrs. Lane, _be_ an angel!" exclaimed Wharton's voice. "Just one
turn--five minutes! The division will be called directly, and then we
will all thank our stars and go to bed!"

In another instant he was at Marcella's side, bare-headed, radiant,
reckless even, as he was wont to be in moments of excitement. He had
seen her speak to Raeburn as he came out on the terrace, but his mind
was too full for any perception of other people's situations--even hers.
He was absorbed with himself, and with her, as she fitted his present
need. The smile of satisfied vanity, of stimulated ambition, was on his
lips; and his good-humour inclined him more than ever to Marcella, and
the pleasure of a woman's company. He passed with ease from triumph to
homage; his talk now audacious, now confiding, offered her a deference,
a flattery, to which, as he was fully conscious, the events of the
evening had lent a new prestige.

She, too, in his eyes, had triumphed--had made her mark. His ears were
full of the comments made upon her to-night by the little world on the
terrace. If it were not for money--_hateful_ money!--what more brilliant
wife could be desired for any rising man?

So the five minutes lengthened into ten, and by the time the division
was called, and Wharton hurried off, Marcella, soothed, taken out of
herself, rescued from the emptiness and forlornness of a tragic moment,
had given him more conscious cause than she had ever given him yet to
think her kind and fair.

CHAPTER X.

"My dear Ned, do be reasonable! Your sister is in despair, and so am I.
Why do you torment us by staying on here in the heat, and taking all
these engagements, which you know you are no more fit for than--"

"A sick grasshopper," laughed Hallin. "Healthy wretch! Did Heaven give
you that sun-burn only that you might come home from Italy and twit us
weaklings? Do you think I _want_ to look as rombustious as you? 'Nothing
too much,' my good friend!"

Aldous looked down upon the speaker with an anxiety quite untouched by
Hallin's "chaff."

"Miss Hallin tells me," he persisted, "that you are wearing yourself out