"Really," said Morella. "I thought everything in Paris was lovely."
"You should go over and see for yourself," he said, "then you could
judge. I think most things there are lovely, though."
Miss Winmarleigh raised her glasses now and examined the house. Her eyes
lighted at last on Theodora.
"Dear Lady Bracondale," she said, "do look at that woman in black
velvet. What splendid pearls! Do you think they are real? Who is it, I
wonder, with Florence Devlyn?"
But Hector felt he could not stay and hear their remarks about his
darling, so he got up, and, murmuring he must have a talk to his friends
in the house, left the box.
He was thankful at least Theodora was sitting on the pit tier--he could
walk along the gangway and talk to her from the front.
She saw him coming and was prepared, so no wild roses tinged her cheeks,
and her greeting was gravely courteous, that was all.
An icy feeling crept over him. What was the change, this subtle change
in voice and eyes? He suddenly had the agonizing sensation of being a
great way off from her, shut out of paradise--a stranger. What had
happened? What had he done?
Every one knows the Opera-House, and where he would be standing, and the
impossibility of saying anything but the most banal commonplaces,
looking up like that.
Then Josiah leaned forward, proud of his acquaintanceship with a peer,
and said in a distinct voice: "Won't you come into the box, Lord Bracondale? There is plenty of room."
He had not taken to either Delaval Stirling or Chris Harford, and
thought a change of company would not come amiss. They had ignored him,
and should pay for it.
Hector made his way joyfully to the back, and, entering, was greeted
affably by his host, so the other two men got up to leave to make room
for him.
He sat down behind Theodora, and Mrs. Devlyn saw it would be wiser to
conciliate Josiah by her interested conversation.
She hoped to make a good thing out of this millionaire and his unknown
wife, and it would not do to ruffle him at this stage of the affair.
Theodora hardly turned, thus Hector was obliged to lean quite forward to
speak to her.
"I have seen my sister to-night," he said, "and she wants so much to
meet you. I said perhaps she would find you to-morrow. Will you be at
home in the afternoon any time?"
"I expect so," replied Theodora. She was longing to face him, to ask him
if it was true he was going to marry that large, pink-faced young woman
opposite, who was now staring down upon them with fixed opera-glasses;
but she felt frozen, and her voice was a frozen voice.