and when she shook her head, he conferred with the waiter and chose the meal with meticulous care.
The results were very pleasing. So was the pink champagne that came out of its silver bucket of ice to dance in a million sparkling bubbles in Candace’s wide crystal glass.
Once Stephen asked Candace to dance.
She shook her head.
“Memories of last night too recent?” he teased.
“It’s lovely just listening and watching.”
“Yes, you’re right, it’s lovely to watch.” His eyes, however, we’re not on the floor and the dancers.
Later he got up, came round behind her and slipped over her shoulders the coral-pink stole.
“A pity to break up this happy party, but I think you’ll equally enjoy what comes next.”
“What does come next?”
“Don’t be a greedy child. All in good time. Do you like ballet?”
Candace hesitated. It would have been nice to have answered, “Oh, very much, particularly Giselle .” Or to have drawled, “Yes, I saw Shearer in Coppelia. She was superb.”
Stephen was looking down on her, that teasing smile again quirking his lips.
Somehow, she could not pretend.
“I’ve never been,” she almost whispered.
“Well, why so apologetic about it? I’m enjoying this. It’s like giving a baby her first sweetmeat. Come along, Candace.”
Les Sylphides was the curtain-raiser. Stephen was highly satisfied over that.
“Everyone should start their ballet experiences with Sylphides. They must have known this was your first stick of candy, child.”
The haunting loveliness of Chopin’s music, the breathtaking exquisiteness of movement of the wistful girls, remained with Candace long after the intricacies of Igor and the lightheartedness of Aurora’s Wedding had ceased She came out into the night dazed with beauty, and Stephen put her gently into the big car.
“You liked it?”
“Oh, Stephen—”
They drove in silence back to Manathunka, but Stephen Halliday drew the car up under the thicket of camphors and not in front of the big house.
“A pity,” he stated, more to himself.
“What is a pity?” She came reluctantly out of the daze.
“To have to finish a perfect evening on another note, but after all there is that other matter to be attended to, isn’t there?”
“What matter?” She was still a little drowned in beauty, and could not follow his trend.
“That little matter of discipline, Sister Jamieson. I’m afraid this is it.”
As he spoke he was drawing her closer to him. It would have been useless for her to struggle, for his clasp was iron, and his arms around her bands of steel.
He held her there a moment, looking deliberately, searchingly, down on her. Then his lips clamped forward in a hard, ruthless kiss.
Even when it was finished he did not release her. He spoke in a voice as hard as his embrace had been.
“Discipline is generally accepted to be something distasteful. I searched my mind for suitable punishment, and could not think of anything that would be more distasteful to you than this. Tell me, Jamieson, was I right?”
His arms had slackened slightly, and Candace grabbed her opportunity. In a moment she was out of the car, and slamming the door behind her.
“Yes, you were right,” she flung back in a choking voice. “I have had my discipline. Goodnight, Doctor Halliday.” Turning, she ran the rest of the distance to the quarters. She was climbing the stairs as she heard the car move on. She had to put out her hand to the banisters, for though the lamp on the landing above was alight as usual, she could not see her way.
Her eyes were blind with tears.
CHAPTER VII
To Candace’s relief, Eve Trisby never asked any more about her punishment. Candace had no doubt that Eve believed she had been put to sheet-patching, or reorganising the cupboards, or had had some of her leave cancelled. She would never have dreamed of the form the discipline had taken—Often Candace wished she could stop dreaming of it.
The memory of those hard
The results were very pleasing. So was the pink champagne that came out of its silver bucket of ice to dance in a million sparkling bubbles in Candace’s wide crystal glass.
Once Stephen asked Candace to dance.
She shook her head.
“Memories of last night too recent?” he teased.
“It’s lovely just listening and watching.”
“Yes, you’re right, it’s lovely to watch.” His eyes, however, we’re not on the floor and the dancers.
Later he got up, came round behind her and slipped over her shoulders the coral-pink stole.
“A pity to break up this happy party, but I think you’ll equally enjoy what comes next.”
“What does come next?”
“Don’t be a greedy child. All in good time. Do you like ballet?”
Candace hesitated. It would have been nice to have answered, “Oh, very much, particularly Giselle .” Or to have drawled, “Yes, I saw Shearer in Coppelia. She was superb.”
Stephen was looking down on her, that teasing smile again quirking his lips.
Somehow, she could not pretend.
“I’ve never been,” she almost whispered.
“Well, why so apologetic about it? I’m enjoying this. It’s like giving a baby her first sweetmeat. Come along, Candace.”
Les Sylphides was the curtain-raiser. Stephen was highly satisfied over that.
“Everyone should start their ballet experiences with Sylphides. They must have known this was your first stick of candy, child.”
The haunting loveliness of Chopin’s music, the breathtaking exquisiteness of movement of the wistful girls, remained with Candace long after the intricacies of Igor and the lightheartedness of Aurora’s Wedding had ceased She came out into the night dazed with beauty, and Stephen put her gently into the big car.
“You liked it?”
“Oh, Stephen—”
They drove in silence back to Manathunka, but Stephen Halliday drew the car up under the thicket of camphors and not in front of the big house.
“A pity,” he stated, more to himself.
“What is a pity?” She came reluctantly out of the daze.
“To have to finish a perfect evening on another note, but after all there is that other matter to be attended to, isn’t there?”
“What matter?” She was still a little drowned in beauty, and could not follow his trend.
“That little matter of discipline, Sister Jamieson. I’m afraid this is it.”
As he spoke he was drawing her closer to him. It would have been useless for her to struggle, for his clasp was iron, and his arms around her bands of steel.
He held her there a moment, looking deliberately, searchingly, down on her. Then his lips clamped forward in a hard, ruthless kiss.
Even when it was finished he did not release her. He spoke in a voice as hard as his embrace had been.
“Discipline is generally accepted to be something distasteful. I searched my mind for suitable punishment, and could not think of anything that would be more distasteful to you than this. Tell me, Jamieson, was I right?”
His arms had slackened slightly, and Candace grabbed her opportunity. In a moment she was out of the car, and slamming the door behind her.
“Yes, you were right,” she flung back in a choking voice. “I have had my discipline. Goodnight, Doctor Halliday.” Turning, she ran the rest of the distance to the quarters. She was climbing the stairs as she heard the car move on. She had to put out her hand to the banisters, for though the lamp on the landing above was alight as usual, she could not see her way.
Her eyes were blind with tears.
CHAPTER VII
To Candace’s relief, Eve Trisby never asked any more about her punishment. Candace had no doubt that Eve believed she had been put to sheet-patching, or reorganising the cupboards, or had had some of her leave cancelled. She would never have dreamed of the form the discipline had taken—Often Candace wished she could stop dreaming of it.
The memory of those hard
Similar Books
