"Forgive me," she said, and tried to take his hand.
He turned slowly and left the room without one backward look.
The silence of the room frightened her. She went to a window and put her head out. A sudden vague terror of she knew not what seized her. Why was everything so still? Why did he leave her like that? If he only had reproached her--that would have been better;--but to go without a word to her! It was awful--it was uncanny--cruel. What did he intend to do? She began to conjure up in her mind all sorts of imaginary terrors. She told herself that she hated the stillness of the Japanese atmosphere; she wanted to go away--back to America, where she could forget everything--where, perhaps, Sinclair would be to her as he had been in the old days. She had been on a nervous strain all day, and she broke down utterly.
Mrs. Davis found her walking up and down the room hysterically.
"There, dear--it is all over now,"--she put her arms about the girl and tried to soothe her.
"No, no, Jen; I feel it is not over. I think--I imagine--Oh, Jenny, I don't know what to think. He acted so queerly. I don't know what to think. I dread everything. Jenny," she put her hand feverishly on the other woman's shoulder, "tell me about these Japanese--can they--do they feel as deeply as we do?"
"Yes--no; don't let's talk about them, dear. Remember, they are giving you and the travelers a big party to-night at the hotel. You _must_ dress--it is nearly eight now."
Never had Cleo Ballard appeared so beautiful as that night. Her eyes shone brightly with excitement, her cheeks were a deep scarlet in hue, and her wonderful rounded neck and arms gleamed dazzlingly white against the black lace of her gown.
Even Sinclair roused out of his indifference to look after her in deep admiration.
"You are looking very beautiful to-night, Cleo," he said; and ten minutes afterwards Tom, passing with Rose Cranston on his arm, laid his hand on Cleo's shoulder: "You are looking unnaturally beautiful, Cleo. Anything wrong?"
"Must there necessarily be something wrong, Tom, because I am looking well?"
Tom gave her a scrutinizing glance. In spite of her quick bantering words there was something in the girl which made him think she was laboring under some intense excitement, and that it was this very excitement that was buoying her up and lending her a brilliancy that was almost unnatural. Tom knew the reaction must come. All through the evening he watched his cousin. She was surrounded almost constantly, save when she danced. Later in the evening he pushed his way to her side. She was resting after a dance.
