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He came to her now with a smile, greeted her heartily, and then turned to Lady Dargan. Captain Maudsley carried off Mrs. Gasgoyne, and the two were left together the second time since the evening of Gaston's arrival, so many months before. Lady Dargan had been abroad, and was just returned.
When Lady Dargan saw the ribbon, which Gaston in his hurry had not disturbed, tied exactly as she had tied it, a weird feeling came to her, and she felt choking. But her sister's eyes were on her, and Mrs. Gasgoyne's voice came across the table clearly: "Sophie, what were Fred Bideford's colours at Sandown? You always remember that kind of thing." The warning was sufficient.
Then there came a striking silence, for Gaston paused. He looked towards the Ladies Gallery. As if in a dream for his brain was working with clear, painful power he saw, not Delia nor her mother, nor Lady Dargan, but Alice Wingfield! He had a sting, a rush in his blood.
"You are thought prudent, sir!" "Ah! an enemy hath said this." Gaston looked towards the Ladies Gallery. Delia's eyes were on him; Alice was gone. A half-hour later he stood in the lobby, waiting for Mrs. Gasgoyne, Lady Dargan, and Delia to come. He had had congratulations in the House; he was having them now. Presently some one touched him on the arm. "Not so bad, Cadet."
Gaston now turned to his grandfather, who had heard a sentence here and there, and felt that the young man carried off the situation well enough. He then began to talk in a general way about Gaston's voyage, of the Hudson's Bay Company, and expeditions to the Arctic, drawing Lady Dargan into the conversation. Whatever might be said of Sir William Belward he was an excellent host.
And just then he looked up and saw a great spotted eagle sailing slowly towards Ballygawley, and he cried out: 'You, too, eagle of Ballygawley, are old, and your wings are full of gaps, and I will put you and your ancient comrades, the Pike of Dargan Lake and the Yew of the Steep Place of the Strangers into my rhyme, that there may be a curse on you for ever.
Lady Dargan came softly to him, smiled more with her eyes than her lips, and told him how sorry she had been to hear of his illness. Some months before Gaston had met Cluny Vosse, who at once was his admirer. Gaston liked the youth. He was fresh, high-minded, extravagant, idle; but he had no vices, and no particular vanity save for his personal appearance.
"Sophie, when you talk with the man, remember that you are near fifty, and faded. Don't be sentimental." So said Mrs. Gasgoyne to Lady Dargan, as they saw Gaston coming down the ballroom with Captain Maudsley. "Reine, you try one's patience. People would say you were not quite disinterested." "You mean Delia! Now, listen.
The poet, Owen Hanrahan, under a bush of may Calls down a curse on his own head because it withers grey; Then on the speckled eagle cock of Ballygawley Hill, Because it is the oldest thing that knows of cark and ill; And on the yew that has been green from the times out of mind By the Steep Place of the Strangers and the Gap of the Wind; And on the great grey pike that broods in Castle Dargan Lake Having in his long body a many a hook and ache; Then curses he old Paddy Bruen of the Well of Bride Because no hair is on his head and drowsiness inside.
There was, however, nothing to be done. He must wait. Two days later Lady Dargan called to inquire after him. He was lying in his study with a book, and Lady Belward sent to ask him if he would care to see her and Lord Dargan's nephew, Cluny Vosse. Lady Belward did not come; Sir William brought them.
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