CHAPTER XIX.
THE CLUB BALL.
Elsie sobbed all night, the sobs of outraged maidenhood. He had conquered. She knew it too well. His kisses burned on her lips, and the burning was sweet agony. She loved him. But—and here came the hideous doubt—did he love her? Had he only been amusing himself? Had he only been revenging dead Jensen? Oh, what concerns of his were this dead man's wrongs? Had he only been playing out the game at which he had challenged her skill?
If he loved her, she told herself, he would come on the morrow. He would come in proud humility, and ask her to forgive him, certain of her pardon.
She heard the steamer bells as the Ullagong, with the Waveryngs on board, steamed up the river. She got up and looked out through the blur of her tears. It was grey dawn—the dawn she thought of her day of destiny. Would he come? She determined that she would torture herself no more with speculations. She got up and dressed, and set herself savagely to her household tasks.
It was perhaps fortunate that Mrs. Valliant was too preoccupied with the thought of the Waveryngs' visit, and the effect it would have upon Ina, to notice the pale face and wild eyes of her eldest daughter. She could talk of nothing but Lady Waveryng. Would Ina meet her sister-in-law at the wharf? Would she call at Government House that afternoon? Lady Stukeley would now be obliged to take some notice of Ina's family. It was she who suggested that Elsie should walk down to Fermoy's and learn something of Ina's arrangements.
Lord Horace was in the verandah, talking excitedly to a plain, rather heavy, good-natured looking man, in a light tweed suit, and with something of the tourist air. The man's eyes rested admiringly on Elsie as she stepped along the side path, not daring to look at any of the other windows
