People cannot go on waltzing for ten minutes in a dead silence, like
automatic dancers. There must be conversation. Only it is better that
the lips should do most of the talking. When the eyes have so much to
say society is apt to be censorious.
Mr. Smithson was smoking a cigarette on the lawn with a sporting peer. A
man to whom tobacco is a necessity cannot be always on guard; but it is
quite possible that in the present state of Lady Lesbia's feelings
Smithson would have had no restraining influence had he been ever so
watchful. To what act in the passion drama had her love come to-night as
she floated round the room, with her head inclined towards her lover's
breast, the strong pulsation of his heart sounding in her ear, like the
rhythmical beat of the basses yonder in Waldteufel's last waltz? Was
there still the uncertainty as to the _denouement_ which marks the third
act of a good play? or was there the dread foreboding, the sense of
impending doom which should stir the spectators with pity and terror as
the fourth act hurries to its passionate close? Who could tell? She had
been full of life and energy to-day on board the yacht during the
racing, in which she seemed to take an ardent interest.
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