Page:Elizabeth's Pretenders.djvu/82



's dream of happiness was short-lived. For many a long day she was not to feel again the perfect security of that first starlit hour, when she promised to be Rupert Wybrowe's wife. Before she went to bed that night her uncle had shaken her by both hands warmly, and kissed her on the forehead. Her aunt had overwhelmed her with caresses, and little shattered peals of laughter. Wybrowe had received his congratulations calmly, as he did everything; but there was a gleam of triumph in his eye. On the whole, he played his part well; he did not overact the rapturous lover. The silent lofty man did not "protest too much" in the home circle. And his betrothed listened, and was satisfied.

Nevertheless, she passed an almost sleepless night, and her nerves the next day were abnormally sensitive and watchful. Now and again Rupert disappointed her. That he was undemonstrative by nature, she knew; but she looked for a readier response, a quicker apprehension of her meaning or wishes, above all, an impatient desire for uninterrupted tête-à-têtes, which he did not evince. He was more charming than ever, in some respects; in lighter spirits, and telling his lion-hunting adventures