"Very much!" replied Bowles, falling back into the familiar formula of polite conversation; and by the time the phonograph had started up on "Casey Jones" they were deep in a discussion of classic music. As often happens in good society, they discovered a wonderful similarity in their likes and dislikes; and by the time the nester girls began to arrive and the dance started up on the gallery, Bowles was very popular in the big house—that is, as far as the hostess was concerned.
But the climax of the evening came at the close of the dance, just as Mr. Bowles was taking his leave.
"Well, good-night, Mrs. Lee," he murmured as he stood in the half light of the porch. "It was so kind of you to invite us up."
He paused then with the rest of his politenesses unsaid, for Dixie Lee was coming down the hall.
"I can't say how much I have enjoyed talking with you, Mr. Bowles," returned the lady, offering him her hand. "It takes me back to my girlhood days, when music was the breath of my life. Perhaps——Oh, Dixie, have you met Mr. Bowles?"
There was silence for a moment as their eyes met across the abyss, hers stern and forbidding, his smiling and conciliatory; and then Dixie bowed very stiffly.
"Why, not that I remember," she replied, with a militant toss of the head.
"How do you do, Miss Lee," observed Mr. Bowles, bowing formally as he received his congé. "So glad to make your acquaintance!" And, murmuring other maddening phrases, he bowed himself out the door, leaving Dixie Lee to explain the feud in any way she chose.