"I wish to goodness I had let well alone, and not tried to give her a happy day," she said to herself.
Just before leaving, she slipped Hector's letter into Theodora's hand. "Lord Bracondale asked me to give you this, my child," she said, and she kissed her. "And if you will write the answer, will you post it to him to the Ritz."
All over Theodora there rushed an emotion when she took the letter. Her hands trembled, and she slipped it into the bodice of her dress. She would not be able to read it yet. She was waiting, all ready dressed, for Josiah to enter any moment, to take their usual walk in the Bois.
Then she wondered what would the widow think of her action, slipping it into her dress—but it was done now, and too late to alter. And their eyes met, and she understood that her future step-mother was wide awake and knew a good many things. But the kind woman put her arm round her and kissed her soft cheek.
"I want you to be my little daughter, Theodora," she said. "And if you have a heartache, dear, why I have had them, too—and I'd like to comfort you. There!"
XV
The dinner-party went off with great éclat. Had not all the guests read in the New York Herald that morning of Captain Fitzgerald's good-fortune? He with his usual savoir-vivre had arranged matters to perfection. The company was chosen from among the nicest of his and Mrs. McBride's friends.