Honoria left him in the large drawing room, and waited for Catherine in the adjoining smaller room. “Lord Frothingham is here,” she said in an undertone, after they had kissed each the other.
Catherine paled and her eyes shifted. “Does he know I’m here?” she asked.
“Yes,” replied Honoria, “but you needn’t see him if you don’t wish.”
Catherine reflected. “I’m certain to meet him again some time, ain’t I, dear?” she said. “And it might be more awkward than this.”
She advanced boldly with Honoria and put out her hand to him, her face flushing, and a delightful pleading look in her eyes. “I’m so glad to see you again, Lord Frothingham,” she said.
“Ah—thank you—a great pleasure to me also, I’m sure,” he answered in his most expressionless tone. “Are you staying in town?”
“We came up yesterday—to stay. Won’t you come to see us? Are you at the Waldorf? I do hope we can get you for a dinner mamma’s arranging for the latter part of next week.”
“Very good of you. But I’m just off to Boston.”
He shook hands with her, then with Honoria. At the door he turned, and a faint smile showed in his eyeglass and at the comers of his mouth. “Oh, I almost forgot—give my regards to Wallingford—when you see him—won’t you?”
Catherine looked gratefully at him. “Thank you—thank you,” she said. “I know he’ll he glad of a friendly message from you. He’s very fond of you.”