"Oh, you take it too seriously; besides, I thought that you helped it on a bit."
Berenice was silenced, but she was none the happier for that. She was vexed with herself for having any feeling about the incident; but the word of Wynne came afresh into her mind, and brought the blood anew to her cheek. She said to herself that she hoped that she should meet him soon again, that she might wither him with a glance of burning contempt, ever after to ignore him.
"You think I wouldn't do it," she sneered to some inner doubt; "but I would!"
She was interrupted by a partner, and went whirling down the bright hall to the tingling measures of a new waltz; yet all the while she was thinking of the moment she had stood face to face with Maurice. She scoffed at herself for giving so much weight to a thing so trifling; she made a strong effort to appear gay, only the more keenly to realize that at heart she was miserable.
Mrs. Staggchase, on her way out of the hall a little later, stopped and spoke to her.
"Come, Bee, it is time for you to go home. You don't seem to profit by the godly example of Elsie Wilson at all."
"Heaven forbid that I should take her as my exemplar!" Berenice flung back with unnecessary fervor.
"Well," Mrs. Staggchase observed good-humoredly, "there are things in which it is conceivable that you might find a better model. By the way, what did Cousin Maurice say to you when you gave him that german favor? Of course I haven't any right to ask, but you see I am interested in bringing the boy up properly."
Berenice flushed with confusion and vexation.
"It was something no gentleman would have said!"