Chapter Eighteen.

A Torn Frill.

The ball to which allusion has already been made, as the one gaiety of its kind that proved attainable for Philippa Raynsworth during her visit to Cannes, though a private one, was given at a hotel. And that hotel was the temporary residence of Mrs and Miss Worthing.

It came about, therefore, naturally enough that they were among the guests, though they had not previously been acquainted with the givers of the dance. For kind Lady Mary Bertram thought it would be “too bad” for a young creature like Aline Worthing to be actually on the spot, listening to the inspiring strains, which would probably prevent her going to sleep, without taking part in the entertainment. So she arranged that there should be an introduction, followed by a card of invitation.

Philippa had heard of the circumstance, but without paying special attention to it. The evening was not destined, however, to pass without her having reason to wish more fervently even than heretofore that the mother and daughter had selected some other route for their journey home from Italy, than that which had brought them to their present halting-place.

She had looked forward to the ball with considerable interest and a fair amount of girlish excitement, which Miss Lermont was glad to see. It was only natural and right that Philippa should enjoy herself and should wish to do so. And this dance was almost a début for her. In the Raynsworths’ very quiet life, occasions of the kind were rare, and since Philippa had been really grown-up, for various local reasons the neighbourhood of Greenleaves had been peculiarly dull.

Maida herself superintended her cousin’s toilet, and the result fully rewarded her. Philippa had never looked better, and her total absence of self-consciousness greatly added to the charm of her appearance. She was frankly pleased with her dress, and delighted that her kind friends approved of the whole effect, and then she thought no more about it.

“Of course I do not expect to dance very much,” she said to Maida, “and I hope Lady Mary will not trouble herself about partners for me. It is not as if we had been here all the winter and knew everybody there is to know; it is not even as if we lived in the ‘world’ at home, like the Worthings. Miss Worthing says they have found ever so many old friends and acquaintances here. But I shall enjoy it quite as much if I dance very little; it will be all so new to me, you see.”

She did not allow, even to her inmost self, that the knowledge of Mr Gresham’s presence, the certainty that he would not suffer the evening to pass without spending as much of it as good taste would permit by her side, had something to do with this foreseeing philosophy of hers. And Miss Lermont was the very last person to hint at such a thing.