I can't
think what brings so many people in them to-day."
"He has heard that _she's_ here, and would like to avoid her," thought
Maude as she took the arm he held out. "The large rooms are empty enough,
I'm sure," she remarked. "Shall we have time to go to the Trianon?"
"If you like. Yes."
He began to hurry through the rooms. Maude, however, was in no mood to be
hurried, but stopped here and stopped there. All at once they met a large
party of friends; those she had originally expected to meet. Quitting her
husband's arm, she became lost amongst them.
There was no help for it; and Lord Hartledon, resigning himself to the
detention, took up his standing before the pictures and stared at them,
his back to the room. He saw a good deal to interest him, in spite of his
rather tumultuous state of mind, and remained there until he found
himself surrounded by other spectators. Turning hastily with a view to
escaping, he trod upon a lady's dress. She looked up at his word of
apology, and they stood face to face--himself and Miss Ashton!
That both utterly lost their presence of mind would have been conclusive
to the spectators, had any regarded them; but none did so. They were
strangers amidst the crowd. For the space of a moment each gazed on the
other, spell-bound. Lord Hartledon's honest blue eyes were riveted on her
face with a strangely yearning expression of repentance--her sweet face,
which had turned as white as ashes.
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