Page:Magician 1908.djvu/163

Rh Margaret had never been in better spirits. The champagne went quickly to her head, and she talked all manner of charming nonsense. Arthur was enchanted. He was very proud, very pleased, and very happy. They talked of all the things they would do when they were married. They talked of the places they must go to, of their home and of the beautiful things with which they would fill it. Margaret’s animation was extraordinary. Arthur was amused at her delight with the brightness of the place, with the good things they ate, and with the wine. Her laughter was like a rippling brook. Everything tended to take him out of his usual reserve. Life was very pleasing, at that moment, and he felt singularly joyful.

“Let us drink to the happiness of our life,” he said.

They touched glasses. He could not take his eyes away from her.

“You’re simply wonderful to-night,” he said. “I’m almost afraid of my good fortune.”

“What is there to be afraid of?” she cried.

“I should like to lose something I valued in order to propitiate the fates. I am too happy now. Everything goes too well with me.”

She gave a soft low laugh and stretched out her hand on the table. No sculptor could have modelled its exquisite delicacy. She wore only one ring, a large emerald of beautiful colour, which Arthur had given her on their engagement. He could not resist taking her hand.

“Would you like to go on anywhere?” he said, when they had finished dinner and were drinking their coffee.