Oncle Jazon caught sight of
her, and snapped his tune short off. The dancers swung together
and stopped in confusion. But she, fortified by a woman's
strongest bulwark, the sense of resplendency, appeared quite
unconscious of herself.
Little Adrienne, hanging in blissful delight upon Rene's strong
arm, felt the stir of excitement and wondered what was the matter,
being too short to see over the heads of those around her.
"What is it? what is it?" she cried, tiptoeing and tugging at her
companion's sleeve. "Tell me, Rene, tell me, I say."
Rene was gazing in dumb admiration into which there swept a
powerful anger, like a breath of flame. He recollected how Alice
had refused to wear that dress when he had asked her, and now she
had it on. Moreover, there she stood beside Lieutenant Beverley,
holding his arm, looking up into his face, smiling, speaking to
him.
"I think you might tell me what has happened," said Adrienne,
pouting and still plucking at his arm. "I can't see a thing, and
you won't tell me."
"Oh, it's nothing," he presently answered, rather fretfully. Then
he stooped, lowered his voice and added; "it's Mademoiselle
Roussillon all dressed up like a bride or something. She's got on
a buff silk dress that Mo'sieu' Roussillon's mother had in
France."
"How beautiful she must look!" cried the girl.
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