Then the white handkerchief dropped like a flag at half mast, and the reconciliation was complete.
CHAPTER VII.
THE OPERATIC SUPPER.
"Indeed, Mr. Closs, I insist!"
"But, my dear child, I have no particular desire to go."
"That is because you think that I care about it. Why should I? In fact, it is unbearable that you should have the idea."
Hepworth Closs had in all loyalty told Lady Clara of the invitation he had received from Olympia, and, instead of resenting it as he expected, she met his vague desire more than half-way—one of the wisest things any woman can do, for half the sins in the world are committed because they are forbidden; not that this young girl knew of the wisdom. With her, it was half pride, half bravado; she was indignant that Hepworth should think of going—more indignant that he should have refused the invitation at once, without telling her of it.
The result was, she insisted on his accepting it, though her heart was burning with jealousy all the time.
Closs, as I have said somewhere, had learned many things in his travels; but in Japan and the frontier countries of America girls like Clara had not often come under his observation, and he was far too deeply in love for a cool examination of her character or actions.
So her impulse of unbounded generosity deceived him utterly, and having some shrinking curiosity regarding Daniel Yates' daughter, he resolved to accept Olympia's invitation.