Chapter XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” “By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?” “Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, “unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. ” Miss Pellissier stiffened visibly. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. I love my husband. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth.
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