At the Time Appointed - Page 87/224

Going to his room, he quickly donned an evening suit, not omitting a

dainty boutonnière awaiting him on his dressing-case, and betook himself

to the libraries across the hall, where, by previous arrangement, Kate

was to call for him when it was time to go downstairs.

From below came the ceaseless hum of conversation, the constant ripple

of laughter, mingled with bits of song, and the occasional strains of a

waltz. Reading was out of the question. Sinking into the depths of a

large arm-chair, Darrell was soon lost in dreamy reverie, from which he

was roused by a slight sound.

Looking up, he saw framed in the arched doorway between the two rooms a

vision, like and yet so unlike the maiden for whom he waited and who had

occupied his thoughts but a moment before that he gazed in silent

astonishment, uncertain whether it were a reality or part of his dreams.

For a moment the silence was unbroken; then,-"How do you like my gown?" said the Vision, demurely.

Darrell sprang to his feet and approached slowly, a new consciousness

dawning in his soul, a new light in his eyes. Of the style or texture of

her gown, a filmy, gleaming mass of white, he knew absolutely nothing;

he only knew that its clinging softness revealed in new beauty the

rounded outlines of her form; that its snowy sheen set off the exquisite

moulding of her neck and arms; that its long, shimmering folds

accentuated the height and grace of her slender figure; but a knowledge

had come to him in that moment like a revelation, stunning, bewildering

him, thrilling his whole being, irradiating every lineament of his face.

"I know very little about ladies' dress," he said apologetically, "and I

fear I may express myself rather bunglingly, but to me the chief beauty

of your gown consists in the fact that it reveals and enhances the

beauty of the wearer; in that sense, I consider it very beautiful."

"Thank you," Kate replied, with a low, sweeping courtesy to conceal the

blushes which she felt mantling her cheeks, not so much at his words as

at what she read in his eyes; "that is the most delicate compliment I

ever heard. I know I shall not receive another so delicious this whole

evening, and to think of prefacing it with an apology!"

"I am glad to hear that voice," said Darrell, possessing himself of one

little gloved hand and surveying his companion critically, from the

charmingly coiffed head to the dainty white slipper peeping from beneath

her skirt; "the voice and the eyes seem about all that is left of the

little girl I had known and loved."

She regarded him silently, with a gracious little smile, but with

deepening color and quickening pulse.