"And does he do other things as well as he dances?" he asked.
"I think he does," said she, "though I never really thought about it.
When people are such dears as Archie, one doesn't consider what they do.
They just are."
"He certainly is. He appears very much alive."
"Yes, he's madly alive."
She gave him a swift glance, and, guessing she had gone far enough on that tack, she put about.
"I think it's possible to be too much alive," she said. "It's like a hot-water bottle that is too hot: it burns you. But you can't help being carried off your feet by it—I don't mean the hot-water bottle."
He paused a moment for the purpose of phrasing.
"I must weight you with a Bradshaw," he said. "That will keep you to earth. We can't spare you."
Helena laughed.
"You say things too neatly," she said. "What a delicious notion! What have you done all day?"
"I have waited for this evening."
"And I hope it doesn't disappoint you now that it has come," she said.
"It is up to my highest expectations just now," said he.
Suddenly it flashed into Helena's mind that this was the temperature of his wooing. He was engaged in that now: those neat and proper sentences, turned as on a lathe, were the expression of it, they and the mild pleased glances that he gave her; and yet, discreet and veiled as it all was, she divined that, according to his nature and his years, it was love that inspired it. She found it quite easy to adjust herself to that level, and if his kiss (when the time came for that) was of the same respectful and finished quality, she could deal with that too. But she wondered how Archie would make love… It was necessary to fox-trot a little longer, and, while trotting, trot also conversationally, and with intention she let herself press a little more against his arm.
"Oh, I am glad of that," she said lightly. "It is such a dreadful pity when people are disappointed. But I think I would sooner anticipate something nice and fail to get it, than not anticipate at all. Can you imagine not looking forward to the delicious things you want?"
"Do you want very much?" he asked.
"Yes, everything. And I want it not only for myself but for everybody."
She made the mental note that he was very shy, for he had nothing in response to this, except that his shirt creaked. But that suited her very well; she did not want him to follow this up, just yet.
Meantime the sedate marchings and retreats and occasional revolution of the fox-trot went decorously on. The room was very full, and, when there was nowhere to march to, they stopped where they were and marked time and rocked a little to and fro. Then perhaps a narrow lane opened in front of them, and they waddled down it, brushing shoulders against the hedges. She had seen Archie go to Mrs. Morris, after which he had appeared for a moment in the gallery where the band was, and now he was back again, standing near the door and watching her. She gave him little glances from time to time, elevated her eyebrows as if in deprecation of this unexhilarating performance, or smiled at him, guessing that he had arranged for another waltz.
At last the end came, the fox-trotters ceased to clutch each other, and walked away with about as much Terpsichorean fervour as they had been dancing with. Dull though the last twenty minutes had been from that standpoint, Helena felt quite satisfied with it, while motion—or perhaps emotion—had made her partner hot; he gently wiped his forehead with a very fine cambric handkerchief.
"Perfectly delicious," he said. "I should have liked that to go on for ever. And how long shall I have to wait before it begins again?"
Archie had sidled through the crowd up to them.
"Helena, we're going to have another waltz at once," he cried. "Don't let us waste any of it."
She laid her hand on his arm.
"We?" she said. "Are you quite certain?"
"May I say 'we' also?" asked Lord Harlow.
She turned towards him, but her hand still rested on Archie, and he felt the slight pressure from her fingertips.
"Oh, I was only teasing my cousin," she said. "I had promised him another waltz. But, later, may I borrow my Bradshaw again?"
The band struck up, setting her a-tingle for the repetition of what had gone before.
"Oh, Archie, come on," she cried. "Au revoir, Bradshaw."
Alert for movement, with the heady tune of the waltz already mounting into them like wine, they stepped off on to the floor. It was like stepping on to some moving platform; it and the tune, without any conscious effort of their own, seemed to carry them away. But Archie had one question to ask before he abandoned himself.
"Bradshaw?" he said. "I thought you told me his name was Harlow."
She gave a little bubble of laughter.
"Oh, that was only a joke," she said. "He told me that you and I were like a Bacchic festival, and he felt as prosy as a Bradshaw in consequence."
"But what does it matter to him what we are like?" asked he.
"Well, it was a compliment; he meant it nicely," said she. "Don't let us talk; it rather spoils it."
* * * * *
Helena reviewed those manoeuvres when she got home that night, and she congratulated herself on the neatness and efficiency of her dispositions. She felt sure that she had stirred up a livelier ferment in Lord Harlow, and had also managed to inspire him with a vague distrust and jealousy of her intimacy with Archie. She suspected that he was a little sluggish in his emotions, and this would serve admirably as a stimulant. She quite realized that she had not yet brought him up to the point of proposing to her, for his inured bachelor habits would want a good deal of breaking; but it was clear to her that she had made a crack in them, and that the judicious use of Archie might be profitably used to widen that crack. Under the influence merely of her charms, he might hold together for a long time yet, and she wanted him, if she could have it entirely her own way, to propose to her about the end of the season. The effect of Archie constantly with her would be cumulative: it was not a wedge that would cause him to fly into splinters forthwith; it would just widen the crack, prevent it closing again, and then widen it a little more.
