Other
people's tragedies were shadowy affairs to her, if she had not to suffer
from them.
It was one of her pleasures to dress beautifully, in a style that might
have seemed exaggerated on a different type of woman, and would have been
extravagant for any except the mistress of a fortune. But never had Carmen
taken more pains than to-night, when she expected only one guest. Her
white chiffon and silver tissue might have been a wedding gown. She adored
jewellery, and had been almost a slave to her love for it, until she began
to value something else more--something which, unfortunately, her money
could not buy, though she hoped and prayed her face might win it. She had
quantities of diamonds, emeralds, and rubies--her favourite stones--but
instinct had told her that even one would spoil the effect she wished to
make to-night. She wore only a long rope of pearls, which would have
suited a bride; and as she stood in the shadow of her bamboo temple, the
pearls drank iridescent lights: green from the jade-coloured trees, pink
from roses trailing over arbours, and gold from the California poppies
thick among the grass.
Of course, any one of many reasonable things might have happened to delay
Nick. He was busy, busier even than when he had been foreman of the Gaylor
ranch a year ago, but Carmen could not bear to think that he would let
mere reasonable things keep him away from her, just this night of all
others.
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