Hugh looked at Millicent. Her fair hair was shining palely under her blue hat. Her cheeks were glowing. Her eyes were fixed on the music-machine. How could Miss Frink have been so cruel! She could feel the secretary’s scornful spectacles, and Mrs. Lumbard’s cold glance. This fashionable Mr. Ogden. Probably he was contemptuous, too, of the countrified errand-girl so ready to admire Prince Charming.
The music started. As it went on, Miss Frink, staring at her new purchase, began to frown in a puzzled way as if it had maliciously betrayed her, and was chuckling. She finally turned toward Hugh. His face was beaming. He had risen and was sitting on the arm of his chair swinging one of his big satin-shod feet, while he softly beat his knee with one hand.
He looked so handsome and happy she glanced at Adèle. “Wicked and happy!” was her quick mental exclamation. On, to Millicent, her gaze roved. Plenty of color was there, but no expression. There was no face more naturally expressive. Miss Frink began to suspect that she had embarrassed the girl.
The strains ceased, and “silence like a poultice” fell.
“Bully!” cried Hugh, gayly snapping his fingers. “That’s the stuff.”
“You liked that?” exclaimed Miss Frink. “You like to be cross-eyed and pigeon-toed?”
John Ogden laughed. “He’ll never let you send that one back, Miss Frink. The youth of to-day have reverted to savagery.”
“My vote is that it should go back,” declared Leonard Grimshaw. The sphinx had spoken, and in a voice that cracked.
“Oh, we’re in the minority, Grim,” sighed Miss Frink.