The party in the veranda broke up and went here and there through the gardens, or else back to the tennis-courts. Tea was going on in a large tent on the lawn, and presently Elfrida, who had seated herself in a garden-chair outside the tent, and had sent Lord Ambert for some coffee, saw Mr. Blount standing near her. Elfrida looked up at him. She was quite alone—a singular occurrence so far as she was concerned—and for the first time, therefore, she was able to look at Blount with a critical eye. It struck her first that he was the youngest-looking man she had ever seen, and then, for she was fond of analysis, she told herself she regarded him like that simply because Lord Ambert was so very far from young.
Presently Blount looked round and saw her, and such a light of gladness grew upon his face as could not be mistaken.
"Can't I do something for you?" asked he.
"You can indeed; you can sit here beside me and amuse me, and tell me things."
"Tell you things?" He laughed at this; he was feeling extraordinarily happy. "What can I tell you that could interest you?"
"Well, one thing," said this finished coquette, "your Christian name. When one likes a person, one always wants to know how those who love him call him."
She smiled at him divinely, bending here pretty head towards him. She looked very lovely in her exquisite gown—a delicate petunia shade, clouded with lace—and the curate, looking at her, lost his head a little. He looked back at her, with all the passionate and very real love he felt for her showing now openly within his honest young eyes.
Blount woke from his mad dream, and to a most unpleasant reality. The Rev. Thomas Blount was a name that could be seen very often on cards for soirees, or placards for temperance meetings, or invitations to tea for girls' friendly societies. It hurt him in some strange way that she had never noticed those cards and placards. If she had even liked him, she would have felt some such small interest in him.
"I'll tell you, of course," said he. Yet he hesitated. Thomas! How could he tell her his name was Thomas? It was, indeed, one of his greatest griefs that he had to sign himself so when he came to this parish. Thomas was such a respectable name!
"Ah, I know now!" cried Elfrida, as he hesitated. "It is Thomas. I saw it in a—-"