Tall
she was, with jewels that sparkled in her dark and lustrous hair; how
she was gowned I cannot remember, but her white throat was unadorned
save for a small gold chain whence hung a plain gold locket, at sight
of which my heart seemed to swell within me.
Flushed and bright-eyed, she stood beside Lord Wyvelstoke to receive
the many guests. And viewing her as I stood thus, myself unseen amid
the crowd, beholding her serene and noble carriage, her vivid
colouring, the classic mould of form and features, the grace and ease
of her every movement, I saw she was indeed more beautiful than I
dreamed and caught my breath in a very ecstasy. Here was Diana
herself, yet a Diana glorified even as Lord Wyvelstoke had said, and
with a thousand elusive graces beyond my poor description.
And now I was bowing before her, heard her tremulous murmur of
"Peregrine!" and answered back as tremulously, "Diana!" and so,
yielding place to others, I passed on, to bow and smile and chatter
inanities with such of the guests as were of my acquaintance, but
yearning for chance of speech with her alone.
Then, somehow, she was beside me, her hand upon my arm, and we were
walking, though whither I cared not, my every sense thrilled by her
gracious ease, her stately beauty and all the wonder of her.
I remember we sat and talked of the past two years, of much that she
had seen and done; and she questioned me a little breathlessly and
always of myself, and I, conscious of the many bewildering changes in
her and of those deep, grey eyes looking at me beneath their level
brows, or hidden by their down-sweeping black lashes, answered briefly
or very much at random, so that she questioned me at last:
"Peregrine, are you listening?"
"Yes--no!" I answered.
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