Her startled look confirmed the guess her words denied. “No, no.”
“By Jove! don’t I know that smile? We were in college together, you know, and I’ve made him put on the gloves with me more than once on account of that devilish smile. But I’ll do him the justice to believe that he didn’t really suppose you’d take that dare.” He interrupted himself to laugh a little. “How seriously we’re talking! After all, it’s no great matter if a—a rather foolish girl did a rather foolish thing.”
She refused to be enlivened. “I had it out with him,” she said. “And since then we haven’t seen anything of each other. You heard what Pinckney Cresap said just now?”
“About Danton and the possibility of a duel?”
“Yes. I’m afraid that’s partly my fault. I sent him away, and——”
“I see. If he’s weak enough to seek consolation in that way, he deserves to lose you.”
She smiled frankly. “You’re very, very comforting. I’m glad I confessed to you—it’s done me good.”
The clatter of the group at the tea-table behind them had effectually muffled the sound of their voices. Their eyes and thoughts, too, had been so preoccupied that it was only now they became aware of a small boy standing on the gravelled walk in front of them. He wore a checked shirt and patched trousers on his diminutive person, and freckles and a disgusted expression on his face.
“Gee Whilliken!” exclaimed this apparition, with startling vehemence. “I been standin’ here ’most an hour, I bet, without you lookin’ at me oncet. I’m Jimmy Jones.”
“Welcome, scion of an illustrious family!” said Fessenden. “What is your pleasure?”