And then they both realised that they were bickering like two children, and they laughed simultaneously as they swept on round the dancing-room. The music stopped just then, and as they were near a window-seat, Patty sat down for a moment. “You go on, Roger,” she said, “and hunt up your next partner, or fight a duel with Mr. Lansing, or do whatever amuses you. My partner will come to hunt me up, I’m sure, and I’ll just wait here.”
“Who is your next partner, Patty?”
“Haven’t looked at my card; but, never mind, he’ll come. You run along.”
As Roger’s next partner was Mona, and as he was anxious to talk to her about her new friend, Roger obeyed Patty’s bidding and strolled away.
Patty sat alone for a moment, knowing full well who was her next partner, and then Mr. Lansing appeared and made a low bow before her.
Now, Patty had not chosen to express to Roger her real opinion of this new man, but in reality she did not approve of him. Though fairly good-looking and correctly dressed, there was about him a certain something—or perhaps, rather, he lacked a certain something that invariably stamps the well-bred man. He stared at Patty a trifle too freely; he sat down beside her with a little too much informality; and he began conversation a little too familiarly. All of these things Patty saw and resented, but as hostess she could not, of course, be openly rude.
“Nice, jolly rooms you’ve got here for a party,” Mr. Lansing remarked, rolling his eyes about appreciatively, “and a jolly lot of people, too. Some class to ’em!”
Patty looked at him coldly. She was not accustomed to this style of expression. Her friends perhaps occasionally used a slang word or term, but it was done in a spirit of gaiety or as a jest, whereas this man used his expressions as formal conversation.
“Yes, I have many kind and delightful friends,” said Patty, a little stiffly.
“You sure have! Rich, too, most of ’em.”