CHAPTER XXIV. And once again we met, and a fair girl was near him : Song. The beautiful Miss Denison was seated in the highest place at Mr. Greathead's concert, for her going was a great honour. Disliking, however, so prominent a situation, she pushed back her chair into a little recess, shaded with yellow damask curtains, from whence she could more comfortably attend to the concert, which promised, from the singers and the selection of music, to be a beautiful one. In spite of her anxiety, she was pleased; and, as Grisi finished a beautiful air from Semiramide, she leaned forward to express her admiration to Mr. Greathead. As she did so, her attention was attracted by a figure that stood in the doorway. The head was turned away, but was it, could it be-Clarence? Involuntarily she threw herself back, but from the recess, though she almost laughed at her fancy, kept her eye on the doorway. After a few minutes, several persons moved; and she saw that the figure which had so much attracted her attention was bent down, in earnest conversation with a young and lovely girl who held his arm. Suddenly he raised himself-he moved his head—and, once more, Clarence was before her. He gazed into the room, looked listlessly around, shook his head, and spoke again to the young girl beside him: smiled upon her, his own sweet, thoughtful smile, and they disappeared in the crowd. A crimson flush-a flush of anger and pride -for a moment rose on Isabel's pale cheek. Then followed that utter sinking of despair, when hope, every hope in life, seems blighted in a moment of time. And then came a strange kind of enjoyment in the agony she endured. "It is well, it is well," she repeated; 66 my father forsook my mother; I forsook him who so truly loved me, and it is well that I, too, should be forgotten-forsaken!" Then, all these moods of mind passed by, and doubt, and fear, and hope, all rose again, with a restless impatience to see more. In vain the sweetest sounds that ever fell, united from the lips of Grisi and Mario. She heard nothing she saw nothing-she smiled mechanically in return for Mr. Greathead's repeated thanks and compliments, but she said nothing. Her eyes were on that place from whence she had seen Clarence vanish: there she expected to see him appear again. The concert was over. Mrs. Courteney moved, followed by Isabel, through the crowd, but it was so great that they got on but slowly. For a moment, there was an opening in the crowd, and she gave a piercing glance forward, and once more beheld Clarence. He was standing at the top of the staircase, and the young girl was still beside him. His head was bent towards her, and Isabel fancied that still he smiled. "Let us go home," she said earnestly to Mrs. Courteney; "pray let us go home." Mrs. Courteney consented, but it was with a pang. She had heard that there was to be a magnificent supper, and she had the usual fancy of old ladies for seeing everything that was to be seen. Perhaps, on this occasion, seeing was not all that was in her mind. But Isabel's wearied, jaded look prevailed; and, when they reached the bottom of the staircase, she gave orders for their carriage to be called. As they were some of the very few who resisted Mr. Greathead's civil invitation to come and have something warm and comfortable, the call was soon successful. A young man came forward to take Isabel to the carriage. As she reached the doorway, Clarence came in from the street, and they met, face to face. She was hurried on, but her large mournful eyes met his earnest, startled, anxious gaze. "Who is that? tell me, who is that? the beautiful girl with the dark curls," said Clarence, seizing an old man by the arm. "That! why, don't you know? it's Miss Denison." "Miss Denison, did you say?" "Yes. Let me see, now I think of it, did she marry? I once heard something-but, no; I am almost sure that she is Miss Denison still." Clarence had taken Mrs. Hervey and Ellinor to their carriage. He now walked home, without another word. |