Nevertheless he came in, shook hands with Beulah, and, leaning over the back of Cornelia's chair, asked tenderly:
"How is my sister? I heard on the street that you were injured."
"Oh, I suppose the whole city will be bemoaning my tragic fate. I am not at all hurt, Eugene."
"You have had one of those attacks, though; I see from your face.
Has it passed off entirely?"
"No; and I want to be quiet. Beulah is going to read me to sleep after a while. You may go down now."
"Beulah, you will be with us to-morrow, I suppose?"
"Yes."
"I am sorry I am obliged to dine out; I shall be at home, however, most of the day. I called the other evening, but you were not at home."
"Yes; I was sorry I did not see you," said Beulah, looking steadily at his flushed face and sparkling eyes.
"Dine out, Eugene! For what, I should like to know?" cried Cornelia, raising herself in her chair and fixing her eyes impatiently upon him. "Henderson and Milbank are both here, you know, and I could not refuse to join them in a Christmas dinner."