"I declare, Christine," said Miss Winthrop, "it is a shame that you did not introduce him, for he is a gentleman. He works like a captive prince."
"How romantic!" gushed the colorless young ladies.
"Nonsense!" said Miss Brown; "I hate to see any one in his position putting on such airs."
As soon as she had seen Dennis fairly at work just like her mother's servants, or her father's men, she felt that he ought to be treated as such—riches being Miss Brown's patent of nobility; and she resolved if possible to lower his ridiculous pride, as she regarded it. Miss Brown was a very handsome, stylish girl of a certain type, but she no more understood Dennis's feelings than she did Sanscrit.
Christine said nothing, but admitted to herself, with a secret wonder, that Dennis awakened in her a respect, a sort of fear, that no other man had inspired, save her father. There was something in his manner, though altogether respectful, that made her feel that he was not to be trifled with. This impression was decidedly heightened when, a few moments later, Miss Brown, pursuant of her resolution to lower Dennis's pride, ordered him in an offensive manner to do something for her that had no connection with the entertainment. At first he acted as if he had not heard her, but his rising color showed that he had. In spite of warning glances from Christine and Miss Winthrop, she repeated her request in a loud, imperious tone.
Dennis drew himself up to his full height, and, turning his dark eyes full upon her, said, firmly, "I am ever ready to offer any service that a gentleman can to a lady, but surely I am not your footman."
"Your pride is ridiculous, sir. You are here to help, and will be paid for it. This is my house, and I expect persons of your position, while in it, to do as they are bidden."
"Since such are the rules and principles of your house, permit me at once to leave you in full possession;" and he was about to retire with a manner as cold as Mr. Ludolph himself could have assumed, and as haughty, when a light hand fell upon his arm. Looking down he met the deep blue eyes of Christine Ludolph lifted pleadingly to his.
"Mr. Fleet, you need not do what is asked. It is not right to require it. In fact we all owe you an apology." Then, in a low, quick tone, she added, "Will you not stay as a favor to me?"
She felt his arm tremble under her hand, there was a moment's hesitation, then he replied, in the same manner, "Miss Ludolph, you can command me on this occasion" (there was no promise for the future); and then he turned to his work as if resolved to see and know nothing else till the ordeal ended.