"Oh, I wish you were going to stay over another Sunday," he exclaimed wistfully. "But I shall come in on Tuesday evening. I don't dance, but Mrs. Stevens is so kind to me, I've met several of the first men in the city here."
"Oh, I am glad you are coming."
It was a very sincere joy and she could not keep it out of her face, did not try to. And it was such a sweet face that she raised to his. He had a sudden unreasonable wish that he was five years older and settled in business, but then—she was very young.
Mrs. Stevens said to her on Monday, after she had read a note over and glanced up at her rather furtively, "There's a friend of yours coming Tuesday night—a friend from Salem that I hope you will be glad to see."
"From Salem——"
"Mr. Saltonstall. He was in here a fortnight or so ago. His mother and I used to be great friends. I happened to ask him if he knew the Leveretts, and he told me about his brother's marriage, that you were one of the bridesmaids."
"Oh, yes. Laura Manning was one of the older girls at Madam Torrey's. They had just gone in their new house and the wedding was splendid. And I liked Mr. Edward Saltonstall so much. He is a most beautiful dancer. I'm so glad he is coming. You see I don't know many of the new dances, and I shouldn't so much mind making a break with him."
She looked up in her sweet, brave innocence as she uttered it.
"You are not in love with him, little lady, and he is very much smitten with you," Mrs. Stevens ruminated. "But you shall have the chance."
"I've always liked Ed," she continued. "He's a nice, frank, honest fellow, pretty gay at times, but not at all in the dissipated line, just full of fun and frolic. So I asked him down, and here he says he will come," waving her note. "I look out for men who dance. I do like to see young folks have a good time. The older people can play cards."