He was pining to put a question to her, and so great was his excitement that his tongue refused him service, and she, knowing what was hovering on his lips, would not help him out, but a humorous twinkle in her dark eyes, and a faint smile round her lips lit up the habitual seriousness of her young face.
"Mademoiselle ..." he managed to stammer at last. "Mademoiselle Yvonne ... you have seen Lady Blakeney?"
"Yes," she replied demurely, "I have seen Lady Blakeney."
"Yes. Lady Blakeney told me many things."
"She told you that ... that.... In God's name, Mademoiselle Yvonne," he added desperately, "do help me out--it is cruel to tease me! Can't you see that I'm nearly crazy with anxiety?"
Then she looked up at him, her dark eyes glowing and brilliant, her face shining with the light of a great tenderness.
"Nay, milor," she said earnestly, "I had no wish to tease you. But you will own 'tis a grave and serious step which Lady Blakeney suggested that I should take. I have had no time to think ... as yet."
"But there is no time for thinking, Mademoiselle Yvonne," he said naïvely. "If you will consent.... Oh! you will consent, will you not?" he pleaded.
She made no immediate reply, but gradually her hand which rested upon the sofa stole nearer and then nearer to his; and with a quiver of exquisite happiness his hand closed upon hers. The tips of his fingers touched the smooth warm palm and poor Lord Tony had to close his eyes for a moment as his sense of superlative ecstasy threatened to make him faint. Slowly he lifted that soft white hand to his lips.
"Upon my word, Yvonne," he said with quiet fervour, "you will never have cause to regret that you have trusted me."
"I know that well, milor," she replied demurely.
She settled down a shade or two closer to him still.
They were now like two birds in a cosy nest--secluded from the rest of the assembly, who appeared to them like dream-figures flitting in some other world that had nothing to do with their happiness. The strains of the orchestra who had struck the measure of the first figure of a contredanse sounded like fairy-music, distant, unreal in their ears. Only their love was real, their joy in one another's company, their hands clasped closely together!