"
"Why remind me of it?" questioned Madame. "I've been endeavouring for
years to forget it."
Isabel's eyes wandered anxiously to the clock. She had a strong impulse
to go to the window again, but remembered that Madame would not approve.
Presently there was the sound of wheels outside, and Allison, very
handsome in his evening clothes, came in with an apology for his
tardiness. After greeting Madame Bernard and Rose, he bowed to Isabel,
with a mock deference which, none the less, contained subtle flattery.
"Silver Girl," he said, "you do me too much honour. I'm not at all sure
that one escort is sufficient for so much loveliness."
Isabel smiled, then dimpled irresistibly. She had a secret sense of
triumph which she did not stop to analyse.
"Come," he said. "In the words of the poet, 'the carriage waits.'"
They said good-night to the others, and went out. There was silence in
the room until the sound of wheels had quite died away, then Rose
sighed. With a swift pang, she envied Isabel's glorious youth, then the
blood retreated from her heart in shame.
Madame sighed too, but for a different reason.
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