Part 47 (1/2)
”Yes. Why, I hope so-certainly.”
She stopped and looked at him.
”When are you going away?”
”Why, I don't exactly know. Very soon. Perhaps, in a day or two.”
”Well, won't you come to see us? Here, I will give you my address. Have you a card?” She took the pencil he offered her and wrote her number on it. ”Come some afternoon--about six; Mr. Lancaster is always in then,”
she said sedately. ”I am sure you will like each other.” Keith bowed.
She floated off smiling. What she had said to Mrs. Wentworth occurred to her.
”Yes; he looks like a man.” She became conscious that her companion was asking a question.
”What is the matter with you?” he said. ”I have asked you three times who that man was, and you have not said a word.”
”Oh, I beg your pardon. Mr. Keith, an old friend of mine,” she said, and changed the subject.
As to her old friend, he was watching her as she danced, winding in and out among the intervening couples. He wondered that he could ever have thought that a creature like that could care for him and share his hard life. He might as soon have expected a bird-of-paradise to live by choice in a coal-bunker.
He strolled about, looking at the handsome women, and presently found himself in the conservatory. Turning a clump, of palms, he came on Mrs.
Wentworth and Mr. Wickersham sitting together talking earnestly. Keith was about to go up and speak to Mrs. Wentworth, but her escort said something under his breath to her, and she looked away. So Keith pa.s.sed on.
A little later, Keith went over to where Mrs. Lancaster stood. Several men were about her, and just after Keith Joined her, another man walked up, if any movement so lazy and sauntering could be termed walking.
”I have been wondering why I did not see you,” he drawled as he came up.
Keith recognized the voice of Ferdy Wickersham. He turned and faced him; but if Mr. Wickersham was aware of his presence, he gave no sign of it.
His dark eyes were on Mrs. Lancaster. She turned to him.
”Perhaps, Ferdinand, it was because you did not use your eyes. That is not ordinarily a fault of yours.”
”I never think of my eyes when yours are present,” said he, lazily.
”Oh, don't you?” laughed Mrs. Lancaster. ”What were you doing a little while ago in the conservatory--with--?”
”Nothing. I have not been in the conservatory this evening. You have paid some one else a compliment.”
”Tell that to some one who does not use her eyes,” said Mrs. Lancaster, mockingly.
”There are occasions when you must disbelieve the sight of your eyes.”
He was looking her steadily in the face, and Keith saw her expression change. She recovered herself.
”Last time I saw you, you vowed you had eyes for none but me, you may remember?” she said lightly.
”No. Did I? Life is too awfully short to remember. But it is true. It is the present in which I find my pleasure.”
Up to this time neither Mrs. Lancaster nor Mr. Wickersham had taken any notice of Keith, who stood a little to one side, waiting, with his eyes resting on the other young man's face. Mrs. Lancaster now turned.
”Oh, Mr. Keith.” She now turned back to Mr. Wickersham. ”You know Mr.