As he crossed the room
towards her she had glanced towards his companion, whose dress
showed him to be the English officer who was, as she knew, with
him; but something in her father's tone of voice, still more the
sentences with which he introduced the name, warned her that this
was the surprise of which he had spoken, and the name, when it came
at last, was almost expected. Had it not been for the manner in
which she had just been speaking, and the vague wonder that flashed
through her mind whether he could have heard her, she could have
met Rupert, with such warning as she had had, as a perfect
stranger. What she had said was perfectly true, that as a child he
had been her hero; but a young girl's heroes seldom withstand the
ordeal of a four years' absence, and Adele was no exception. Rupert
had gone out of her existence, and she had not thought of him,
beyond an occasional feeling of wonder whether he was alive, for
years; and had it not been for that unlucky speech--which, indeed,
she could not have made had any of her girlish feeling remained,
she could have met him as frankly and cordially as in the days when
they danced together.
In spite, therefore, of her efforts, it was with a heightened
colour that, as demanded by etiquette, Adele rose, and making a
deep reverence in return to the even deeper bow of Rupert, extended
her hand, which, taking the tips of the fingers, Rupert bent over
and kissed.
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