"Hector! Crow, leave me with him, like the dear you always are," she
whispered to Colonel Lowerby, "and come and find me again in a few
minutes."
"Hector, what is it?" she asked, anxiously, when they stood alone.
"Look!" said Lord Bracondale. "Look at Wensleydown leaning over
Theodora." He was so moved that he uttered the name without being aware
of it. "Did you ever see such a damned cad as he is? Good God, I cannot
bear it!"
"He--he is only dancing with her," said Anne, soothingly. What had come
to her brother, her whimsical, cynical brother, who troubled not at all,
as a rule, over anything in the world?
"Only dancing with her! I tell you I will not bear it. Where is the
Crow? Why did you send him off? I can't stay with you; I must go and
speak to her, and take her away from this."
"Hector, for Heaven's sake do not be so mad," said Lady Anningford, now
really alarmed. "You can't go up and seize a woman from her partner in
the middle of a waltz. You must be completely crazy! Dear boy, let us
stay here by the door until the music finishes, and then I will speak to
her before they can leave the room to sit out."
She put her hand on his arm to detain him, and started to feel how it
trembled.
What passion was this? Surely the Crow was right, after all, and it
could only lead to some inevitable catastrophe. Anne's heart sank; the
lights and the splendor seemed all a gilded mockery.
At that moment Morella Winmarleigh advanced with Evermond Le
Mesurier--their uncle Evermond--who, having other views for his own
amusement, left her instantly at Anne's side and disappeared among the
crowd.
"How impossible to find any one in this crush!" Miss Winmarleigh said.
There was a cackly tone in her voice, especially when raised above the
din of the music, which was peculiarly irritating to sensitive ears.
Hector felt he hated her.
Anne still kept her hand on his arm, and flight was hopeless.
Just then a Royalty passed with their hostess, and claimed Lady
Anningford's attention, so Hector was left sole guardian of Morella
Winmarleigh.
She cackled on about nothing, while his every sense was strained
watching Theodora, to see that she did not leave the room without his
knowledge.
She was whirling still in the maze of the waltz, and each time she
passed fresh waves of rage surged in Hector's breast, as he perceived
the way in which Lord Wensleydown held her.