"I can't answer for Jess,—I believe she has no frocks yet, but I'll come all right."
"Don't be late," and with a parting nod, she drifted on.
"I say! that's a rum-looking chap," said Tony. "Did you ever see such boots?—like coal boxes, and what a hat! no gloves, hands the size of a ham,—where on earth did you get hold of him?"
"In India, he was our nearest neighbour; I've known him since I was in socks. He is one of the best; something quite extra! You mustn't judge him by his clothes! If you had put in ten years on a coffee estate, perhaps you wouldn't be so very smart yourself!"
"Perhaps not! Well, I hope when Jessie has got her frocks, she will do something for him, poor chap! His coat would be a find for the wardrobe of our regimental theatre. Is he a specimen of the men you met out in India?"
"He is a specimen of a successful planter, a first-rate sportsman, and a real friend. He was like a kind elder brother, when I was in frightful trouble. Well!" in a totally different voice—"there are Mrs. De Wolfe and Sir Dudley beckoning—I do hope, they have kept us chairs!"
"Mr. Edward Dawson," as announced in Mrs. De Wolfe's sitting-room, arrived to dine, alone, bringing a long epistle from Jessie, who was staying in West Kensington, with some of her mother's relatives. Teddy had invested in a new black tie and a pair of shiny shoes, and looked quite passable when presented to Mrs. De Wolfe,—who gave him a cordial reception. She knew all about him,—and had even read his letters!
The two ladies, who were "going on" to a ball, were in full dress; Nancy so transformed and lovely, that Teddie could scarcely take his eyes from her. His surprise and bewilderment were such, that several times, he entirely forgot what he was going to say, and blundered about, with spoons and helpings, as if he had never dined in company before! He and Nancy had much to discuss, and he spoke freely and openly before the "old lady," as he mentally called her.
"I must confess, I wonder how you got round Finchie?" said Nancy.
"Oh, you mean about Jess? You see she was away up in Cashmere, and the mice played about! She declares that Jessie's mad,—and that I'm a savage and belong to the Stone Age; but Jessie stood up for me and said, 'At any rate, he is a rock of sense.' Rather smart, eh?"