"That is, unless we take up with a different set of friends," said Katharine; "and I believe there are instances on record of such a change."
Gordon Frere looked at her again, and threw an additional warmth into his voice as he said, "Granted that fidelity is uncommon, Miss Guyon, it should be the more prized when it is found. You are going to-night to Mrs. Tresillian's?"
"Yes; Lady Henmarsh has promised to take me. It is almost my 'last rose of summer;' positively the last of our ball-engagements this season."
"Let us trust it will be one of the pleasantest. You will come early, and you will give me the first valse, and as many afterwards as you can."
"I--I shall be very happy; but we shall leave early. Papa has a holy horror of having his horses kept out late, more especially when he is not present; and he will not be there to-night, I think; for he's going to ask Mr. Streightley to dine with us, and I believe he wants to talk business to him afterwards."
"Mr. Streightley going to dine with you! By the way, who is Mr. Streightley?"
"Mr. Streightley? he's a horror--I didn't mean that. He's a City friend of papa's, and, as I'm told, a very rich man."
"Very rich, and in the City, eh!" said Gordon Frere, looking over his shoulder at the object of their remark. "He's better got up than most of his genus. I think I could swear to Poole in his coat. Very rich, and you've been told so, Miss Guyon! He's a lucky man."
"Is he, Mr. Frere? You'll excuse my saying that I don't follow you; that I don't know why Mr. Streightley is lucky."
"Did you not yourself say that he was very rich, Miss Guyon, and that you had been told so?" said Gordon, with more warmth than he had previously exhibited. "Society acts as this gentleman's avant-coureur, and repeats his claim to respect wherever he goes; and of course he finds people prepared to proffer him ready-made honour."