A gentleman who was talking to her saw her face grow pale and a look that seemed like terror come into he eyes.
"Are you ill, Mrs.Abercrombie ?" he asked, in some alarm.
"No," she replied.

"Only a slight feeling of faintness.

It is gone now;" and she tried to recover herself.
"Shall I take you from the room ?" asked the gentleman, seeing that the color did not come back to her face.
"Oh no, thank you." "Let me give you a glass of wine." But she waved her hand with a quick motion, saying, "Not wine; but a little ice water." She drank, but the water did not take the whiteness from her lips nor restore the color to her cheeks.

The look of dread or fear kept in her eyes, and her companion saw her glance up and down the room in a furtive way as if in anxious search for some one.
In a few moments Mrs.Abercrombie was able to rise in some small degree above the strange impression which had fallen upon her like the shadow of some passing evil; but the rarely flavored dishes, the choice fruits, confections and ices with which she was supplied scarcely passed her lips.

She only pretended to eat.