The fancy-dress masquerade cycle carnival had been the talk of
fashionable circles in Newport for the last fortnight, and now, as the
auspicious evening drew near, excitement was almost at fever heat.
The tickets of admission had been closely guarded; gold could not buy
them. The tickets, which were strictly _not transferable_, had been
duly delivered by messengers to the different members whose names they
bore, and the promoters of the affair felt duly satisfied that no one
outside the charmed circle of Newport's fashionable Four Hundred could
by any possibility invade the sacred precincts.
A whole army of officers were to guard against intruders. There was
to be a banquet in the supper-room at midnight, after the masks of
the merry cyclers had been removed, that would be so startling in its
sumptuousness that the whole country would be talking about it, and
those who had been fortunate enough to attend would never forget it in
their after lives.
Philip Ravenswood had indeed done his utmost to secure the admittance
of his friend; but even he had failed signally. The officers were
inexorable in their polite but firm refusal to his request.
Two hours later the grand masquerade cycle carnival was at its height.
The marble walls of the millionaire club never held a more brilliant
gathering of ladies fair, with eyes behind silken masks brighter than
the diamonds they wore, and men braver than the famous knights of old
in their powdered wigs, satin knee-breeches and spangled waistcoats.
One wheelman, in the costume of handsome Romeo, sprung from his wheel
near one of the fountains, and watched with keen eyes through his mask
the cyclers as they passed him one after another.
"Aha! I have them at last," he muttered, as he noted three wood-nymphs
hovering close together. "Well, I declare, I thought I should have
little difficulty in distinguishing one from the other," he muttered;
"but to save my life, I can not tell them apart. I shall trust to fate
to choose for me, hoping it will be the beauteous Hildegarde."
Suddenly two plumed cavaliers sprung from their wheels before the two
foremost wood-nymphs, and asked permission in silent pantomime to ride
as their escorts around the rink, which request was graciously acceded
to, but with the dignity of young princesses.
"This is my opportunity," thought Romeo. "I must claim the remaining
wood-nymph before some other fellow has the chance to capture her."
The next instant he was bowing low before her.
"May I have the great honor of riding as your escort around the rink,
fair wood-nymph?" he whispered in a low, melodious voice. "Ah, pardon
my speaking; it was purely a slip of the tongue. I should have made
known my request in pantomime. But pray forgive, and do not betray
me, fairest of all maidens, to the floor manager, pray, or I shall be
ordered from the floor in deep disgrace."
"If she answers, I shall know by her voice which one of the three
heiresses she is," he thought.
"Oh, I shall not betray you, Mr. Ainsley," replied the girl, with a
jolly little laugh, showing the whitest of pearly teeth, "and I accept
your escort to ride with me. I--I am so afraid of tumbling off my
wheel, this gay throng and the flashing lights bewilder me so. I--I was
just wondering if you would be here to-night."
"Fair maid, you know me?" he whispered, in apparent amazement. "I am
astounded, yet flattered. Pray be kind enough to exchange confidences.
I have been hoping against hope that _you_ are the one whom I longed to
see here. Surely the throbbings of my heart tell me who you are, fair
nymph. Shall I breathe to you the name of her whom I ardently wish it
to be?" he asked, softly.
"Yes," she answered, eagerly; and there was no mistaking the
characteristic catching of the breath, and the intense, eager gaze in
the velvety eyes behind the silken mask.
He crushed the furtive hope that had stirred his heart for an instant
that it might be Hildegarde, and answered, boldly:
"I prayed the fates to lead me to the feet of beauteous Ida May! Oh,
tell me--am I right? Do be kind, and tell me."
"Then the fates have answered your prayer," she replied. "I suppose I
ought _not_ to tell you until unmasking time, but really I can not help
it. I _am_ Ida May."
"Thanks, ten thousand thanks for ending my suspense, dear girl,"
he murmured, as only Royal Ainsley could utter the words. A few
sweeps around the rink, where handsome Romeo, with his superb fancy
riding, was the cynosure of all eager feminine eyes, midst murmurs
of admiration, then he whispered to his companion: "Come into the
conservatory; the air is too close here. You are riding as though you
were dizzy. Are you?"
"Yes," she answered. "I _must_ have air. I----"
The wheel suddenly wobbled recklessly from side to side, as though its
rider had lost control of it entirely.
Royal Ainsley sprung from his wheel just in time to prevent her from
falling, and in that instant he crushed her closely to his heart, then
as quickly released her.
The excitement was so great, no one noticed this little by-play, or
saw Romeo lead the fair wood-nymph from amid the glittering lights to
the shadowy depths of the cool conservatory. Standing their wheels
against a marble Flora, he found a rustic bench on which he placed
her, taking a seat beside her, dangerously near, his hand closing over
the fluttering little white one, his handsome head, with its fair,
clustering hair, bent near her own. A half hour they spent amid the
dim, cool shadows, the perfume of the roses enfolding them, the soft,
low, bewildering echo of the delicious music floating out to them.
Remember, the young girl was only seventeen, dear reader, otherwise the
place, and the scene, and the fair, handsome lover by her side could
not have infatuated her so quickly or so deeply.
"This is heaven!" he whispered. "How I wish we could linger here
forever, Ida--I your devoted knight, and you my queen, the world
forgetting, by the world forgot! Do _you_ wish it could be so?"
The low cadence of his voice; the thrilling touch of that strong, white
hand that was stealing around the supple waist, drawing her toward
him; the panting of his breath, which she could feel on her flushed
cheek; the mesmeric, steady gaze of those bright blue, shining eyes,
bewildered her--made her heart flutter as it had never fluttered
before.
"Do you wish we could be always together, Ida?" he persisted.
"Yes," answered the girl, with a half sob of affright, trembling under
the strange spell that had slowly but surely been cast over her.
"Then marry me, Ida!" he cried, "this very night--within the hour, and
no one can ever part us after that! Oh, Ida, do not refuse me!" he
urged. "I love you so that I would die for you. Fate surely intended us
for each other, or we would never have met and loved as we do. Oh, my
darling, you can not deny it! You do love me, Ida May?"
She strove with all her might to deny it; but, in spite of herself,
he wrung the truth from her lips--that she _did_ love him. A sudden
light that she could not quite understand leaped up into his eyes for a
moment, and a triumphant smile curved his lips.
"We shall be married to-night, Ida!" he cried. "I will arrange it
somehow;" and as he uttered the words, he told himself that the great
heiress was as good as won.