"
It finally did overtake Francesca, but I had too much to think
about--my own problems as well as Patricia's. After what seemed to
be hours of tossing I was helplessly drawn back into the sitting-
room, just to see if anything had happened, and if the affair was
ever likely to come to an end.
It was half-past two, and yes, the ball was decidedly 'thinning
out.'
The attendants in the lower hall, when they were not calling
carriages, yawned behind their hands, and stood first on one foot,
and then on the other.
Women in beautiful wraps, their heads flashing with jewels,
descended the staircase, and drove, or even walked, away into the
summer night.
Lady Brighthelmston began to look tired, although all the world, as
it said good night, was telling her that it was one of the most
delightful balls of the season.
The English nosegay had lost its white flower, for Patricia was not
in the family group. I looked everywhere for the gleam of her
silvery scarf, everywhere for Terence, while, the waltz music having
ceased, the Spanish students played 'Love's Young Dream.'
I hummed the words as the sweet old tune, strummed by the tinkling
mandolins, vibrated clearly in the maze of other sounds:-
'Oh! the days have gone when Beauty bright
My heart's chain wove;
When my dream of life from morn till night
Was Love, still Love.
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