Governor's house, he thought that it was into Fair View garden they were
about to descend. And when they came out upon the broad, torchlit walk,
and he saw gay parties of ladies and gentlemen straying here and there
beneath the trees, he thought it strange that he had forgotten that he had
guests this night. As for the sound of the river below his terrace, he had
never heard so loud a murmur. It grew and filled the night, making thin
and far away the voices of his guests.

There was a coach at the gates, and Mr. Grymes, who awhile ago had told
him that he had a message to deliver, was at the coach door. Evelyn had
her hand upon his arm, and her voice was speaking to him from as far away
as across the river. "I am leaving the ball," it said, "and I will take
the girl in my coach to the place where she is staying. Promise me that
you will not go back to the house yonder; promise me that you will go away
with Mr. Grymes, who is also weary of the ball"--

"Oh," said Mr. Grymes lightly, "Mr. Haward agrees with me that Marot's
best room, cool and quiet, a bottle of Burgundy, and a hand at piquet are
more alluring than the heat and babel we have left. We are going at once,
Mistress Evelyn. Haward, I propose that on our way to Marot's we knock up
Dr. Contesse, and make him free of our company."

As he spoke, he handed into the coach the lady in flowered damask, who had
held up her head, but said no word, and the lady in rose-colored brocade,
who, through the length of the ballroom and the hall and the broad walk
where people passed and repassed, had kept her hand in Audrey's, and had
talked, easily and with smiles, to the two attending gentlemen. He shut to
the coach door, and drew back, with a low bow, when Haward's deeply
flushed, handsome face appeared for a moment at the lowered glass.