The Eleventh Hour by Michael Phillips

The Eleventh Hour by Michael Phillips

Author:Michael Phillips
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Booksurge
Published: 1993-01-15T00:00:00+00:00


45

Renewed Friendship

After enduring two tediously long waltzes with Gustav, Sabina excused herself and sought refuge temporarily with her mother. The boy with whom she had grown up had become so pompous and preoccupied with himself that she scarcely knew him. How could they ever have been such friends, she wondered. And how much less believable did it now seem that there had been talk of their marrying!

Oh, how I wish things weren’t so awkward, Sabina said to herself. She wished she could just leave and go home right now!

Almost identical thoughts had been flowing through Marion’s mind about Ingrid, and both mother and daughter were saddened by what they felt.

Why was Gustav so intent on making a fuss? He refused to accept the fact that however close friends they might have been when they were younger, such times were past.

After a few minutes of reassuring talk with her mother, however, Matthew McCallum approached. Immediately Sabina’s face lit up. It was so good to see him! She hadn’t anticipated such a reaction of pleasure deep down inside. He looked so much more grown-up, so like a man! And the look on his face told her without any doubt that they could start up their friendship immediately where they had left off. Suddenly it was like no time had even passed.

“Hello, Frau von Dortmann. Hello, Sabina,” said Matthew as he walked up. “It’s so good to see you both again.”

“We’ve been looking forward to your visit with us.”

“Thank you, Frau von Dortmann,” he replied, turning to Sabina. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to say hi to you,” he said. “You’ve been… pretty much tied up out there.” He nodded toward the dance floor.

Sabina reddened with embarrassment. “Oh, that,” she said.

“Who is he, anyway?”

“Our neighbor, Count von Schmundt’s son. I’d rather not talk about him—we were children together, that’s all.”

“Would you… uh, like to dance?” asked Matthew, not without some awkwardness. Suddenly the suave maturity gave way to the nervous teenager.

Sabina smiled. “I’d love to,” she said, relieved to be with Matthew before Gustav caught up with her again.

The young man and woman moved out onto the dance floor to the melodic strains of Strauss’s Geschichten aus dem Wienerwald. Being so dose to one another, and at a high-society function like this—he in a tuxedo, she in a long gown—suddenly each seemed to realize, though neither would have said so, that there was more flowing between them than the mere frivolity and fun of friendship they had enjoyed together two years before. They were both so happy to see one another that they could hardly stand to be in such a stuffy and artificial environment. How much better to have been outside somewhere, though just being with each other was enough. It began to feel extremely warm.

“It’s been a long time since your last letter,” said Sabina.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t write more often.”

“Me too.”

“I’m not a very good waltzer,” said Matthew.

“Nonsense,” rejoined Sabina. “I would say you’re very good.”

“As good as your neighbor friend?”

“Well, in all fairness, Gustav is an expert dancer.



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