Near the door, stood Miss Caggett, the centre of a noisy circle, dangling her programme, and almost drowning the bass and tenor voices by which she was encompassed, with her shrill treble, and shrieks of discordant laughter at Dr. Malone's muttered witticisms. Her dress was pink tarletan, made with very full skirts, and it fitted her neat little figure to perfection. Altogether, Miss Caggett was looking her best, and was serenely confident of herself, and severely critical of others.
Every one had now arrived, save Mr. Quentin, but he thoroughly understood the importance of a tardy and solitary entrée. At last his tall figure loomed in the doorway, and he lounged in, with an air of supreme nonchalance, just as the preliminary bars of the opening Lancers were being played.
He was not alone, to every one's amazement he was supplemented by Mr. Lisle—Mr. Lisle in evening dress! There had been grave doubts as to his possessing that garb; and his absence from one or two dinners, had been leniently attributed to this deficiency in his wardrobe! People who looked once at James Quentin, looked twice at Gilbert Lisle; they could hardly credit the evidence of their senses. Mr. Lisle in unimpeachable clothes, with a matchless tie, a wide expanse of shirt-front, and skin-fitting gloves, was a totally different person to the individual they were accustomed to see, in a rusty old coat, a flannel shirt, and disreputable wide-awake! How much depends on a man's tailor! Here was the loafer, transformed into a handsome (if rather bronzed), distinguished-looking gentleman. He received the fire of many eyes with the utmost equanimity, as he leant lazily against the wall, like his neighbours. Miss Caggett, having breathed the words "Borrowed plumes," and giggled at her own wit, presently beckoned him to approach, and said pertly,—
"This is, indeed, an unexpected pleasure. I thought you said you were not coming, Mr. Lisle?"
"Did I?" pausing before her. "Very likely; but, unfortunately, I am the victim of constitutional vacillation."
"In plain English, you often change your mind?"
"Never about Miss Caggett," bowing deeply, and presently retiring to the doorway.
Lookers-on chuckled, and considered that "Lizzie," as they called her among themselves, had got the worst of that! Mrs. Creery, who had been gazing at this late arrival with haughty amazement, now no longer able to restrain herself, advanced upon him, as if marching to slow music, and said,—
"I've just had a letter about you, Mr. Lisle."
Mr. Lisle coloured—that is to say, his tan became of a still deeper shade of brown, and his dark eyes, as they met hers, had an anxious, uneasy expression.