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Aren't you of my mind?" "Yes," said Roxholm, who for a few moments had been gazing at the wall with a somewhat fierce expression. "Hello!" exclaimed Tantillion, not knowing the meaning of it. "What are you thinking of?" Roxholm recovered himself, but his smile was rather a grim one.
When in her presence his burning blue eyes followed her every movement, and when she treated him disdainfully he turned pale. "But she leaves him no room for boasting," related young Tantillion. "He may worship as any man may, but she shows no mercy to any, and him she treats with open scorn when he languishes. He grows thin and pale and is half-crazed with his passion for her."
'Twas only Roxholm who was not overcome, the story not seeming so comical to him as to the others, and yet there were points at which he himself could not help but laugh. "'Damn thy fat head," shrieked Tom Tantillion, "'If that is thy way to convert women, this is mine to convert men. Oh, Lord! I think I see the parson!"
From young Tantillion he heard such things, from talkative young officers back after leave of absence, and more than once from ladies who, travelling from England to reach foreign gayeties, brought with them the latest talk of the country as well as of the town. From the old Lady Storms, whom he encountered in Vienna, he heard more than from any other.
"To the devil with them!" he said, but the next moment advanced with a somewhat mocking smile, which was scarce hidden by his elaborate bow of ceremony to her ladyship. "My Lady Betty Tantillion!" he exclaimed, "I did not look for such fortune. 'Tis not necessary to hope your ladyship blooms in health. 'Tis an age since we met."
"Never was I more glad to see a man," he said. "I'm damned if we scapegraces have not missed thy good-looking face. Thou art a fine fellow, Roxholm and good-natured ay, and modest, too for all thy beauty and learning. Many a man, with half thou hast, would wear grand Court airs to a rattle-pated rascal like Tom Tantillion.
Lady Betty Tantillion engaged in her encounter in an antechamber near the great saloon. Her ladyship had a pretty way of withdrawing from the moving throng at times to seek comparative seclusion and greater ease.
"Drawer!" he called, "bring me coffee and brandy, and, damme! be in haste." Young Tantillion nudged his nearest companion with his elbow. "Jack Oxon," he said. "Where rides the fellow at this time of night?" "Eh, Jack!" he said, aloud, "art on a journey already, after shining at the Court ball?" Sir John started, and seeing who spoke, answered with an ugly laugh.
"Does he ride for a wager?" said Will Lovell, dealing the cards. "He rides for some ill purpose, I swear," said Tom Tantillion. "Jack Oxon never went in haste towards an honest deed; but to play some devil's trick 'tis but nature to him to go full speed."
She seemed a storm embodied in the form of woman, and yet in her black eyes' depths as if hid behind their darkest shadows and unknown of by her very self there lay the possibility of a great and strange melting a melting which was all woman and woman who was queen. "By the Lord!" cried Tom Tantillion again, and then flushed up boyishly and broke forth into an awkward laugh.
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