The general was polite and
attentive, and as prompt as any younger gallant in the work of
supplying his fair companion with the good things she was so ready
to appropriate.
"Will you have a glass of champagne?"
Of course she would. Her eyebrows arched a little in surprise at the
question. The general filled a glass and placed it in her hand. Did
she raise it to her lips? No; she held it a little extended, looking
at him with an expression which said, "I will wait for you."
For an instant General Abercrombie felt as if be were sinking
through space. Darkness and fear were upon him. But there was no
time for indecision. The lady stood holding her glass and looking at
him fixedly. An instant and the struggle was over. He turned to the
table and filled another glass. A smile and a bow, and then, a
draught that sent the blood leaping along his veins with a hot and
startled impulse.
Mrs. Abercrombie, who had entered the room a little while before,
and was some distance from the place where her husband stood, felt
at the moment a sudden chill and weight fall upon her heart. A
gentleman who was talking to her saw her face grow pale and a look
that seemed like terror come into he eyes.
"Are you ill, Mrs. Abercrombie?" he asked, in some alarm.
"No," she replied. "Only a slight feeling of faintness. It is gone
now;" and she tried to recover herself.
"Shall I take you from the room?" asked the gentleman, seeing that
the color did not come back to her face.
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