At last we saw approaching the emerald-green handkerchief that Sallie wore knotted round her head, and they came up to us.
Captain Patch went and sat beside Diamond Harter without pause or hesitation, and I very much doubt if he even saw the look of astonished resentment turned upon him by Mr. Leeds.
The rest of us saw it, however, including Mrs. Leeds, who had not been among us long enough to realize fully the inner subtleties of the affaire Harter, and remarked with a loud laugh that Hector would be simply furious with that red-headed young man. Hector had, as she put it, made all the running with Mrs. Harter last time they met, on board the yacht.
Nobody made very much response, and it was a relief on every account when we at last began luncheon.
But luncheon was not without its perilous moments, either.
Mr. and Mrs. Leeds are the sort of people who provide cocktails at a picnic, and these of course revived the reminiscences of Mrs. Harter’s feats in Cairo. Even Leeds, however, must have seen that he was not being a success. Mrs. Harter’s face showed that plainly enough, and even more expressive was the way in which she presently turned her back on him and left him to Sallie, who was sitting on his other side. With Sallie, Leeds had only too much scope.
There is a colloquialism made use of in the servants’ hall which has always seemed to me a wonderfully expressive one. Somebody is described as “playing up” somebody else. It occurred to me very forcibly, while watching and listening to Sallie and Leeds.
Sallie was shamelessly “playing him up.” She encouraged him with artless questions, and listened to his loud and generally boastful replies with innocent and unwavering interest, and all the time I knew, and Mary Ambrey did, that the horrid little clever thing was storing up every word of it, and mentally labeling, filing, and indexing him for future reference.
Sallie will certainly write a novel some day, and all of us will recognize one another in it.
Leeds told several stories, not very funny ones, but in such stentorian tones that we were all more or less obliged to listen, and twice Claire said, “That reminds me of how I once” but Leeds didn’t hear.