There was naught to do, in Captain Pharo's exalted frame of mind, but
to follow the commanding flower; but when that had become once more
congenially distracted I returned to the ball-room to observe there.
The dancers were at rest, and Angie Fay too, the stewards serving them
with refreshments; but Fluke and Gurdon were playing softly together on
their violins, Fluke with waved hair on his forehead, Gurdon with still
brow. Vesty had taken up her sleeping child and was holding him. The
Basins loved sad music, low, mournful lullabys on the wind; they
listened.
I listened so deeply, so strangely, it was like the awaking from a
dream when I heard Notely and his guests inviting the dancers again to
the floor.
"Good-night, major," Vesty whispered kindly, coming to me. She had her
shawl wrapped over herself and her infant, and was departing quietly
with her father-in-law, Captain Rafe.
"I--I didn't get one eye-beam from her the whole evenin'--no, by Jove!
Note," said "Sid," watching that gently retreating figure; "not one!
And she just now leaned over and showered a whole peck of 'em on that
poor little----"
"Hush!" said Notely.
I witnessed with some sadness how Captain Pharo and Captain Judah were
walking the room, arm-in-arm, Captain Judah reading from some of Angie
Fay's most affecting strains, and Captain Pharo willingly melted to
tears thereat.
"Read that ag'in, Judah," I heard Captain Pharo snivel, as they were
passing me.