No, her mother was still in New York with the children. That was one reason Nan was having to go back. For Mrs. Ellis was leaving on Saturday for California. "Father needs her, and she says I don't, now I have Greta."
"I see; you have Greta."
"Greta is dining out to-night." She scanned his face with an expression which, in the retrospect, comforted him even more than to remember her delight at the arrangement finally made. He was to call for her. "Not later than half-past seven," because she had the packing to do before bed—time. Yes, they were going to New York by the early train. Greta had to be in New York to-morrow night for a meeting.
"Hallet Newcomb's, I suppose?"
Nan opened her eyes.
"How odd you should guess! But isn't it fair-minded for her to go to a pro-Ally lecture by an Englishman?"
He smiled faintly as he hurried back to the anteroom.
On the way out, after his interview with the President, Napier could not fail to see among the waiting crowd, composed chiefly of men, the very striking figure of a yellow-haired woman in deep conversation with a certain senator much at the moment in the public eye. But Miss von Schwarzenberg did not leave Mr. Napier's recognition to chance.
"Oh, here you are!" She turned her back on the important person and joined Napier with as much effrontery as though the meeting were what she so successfully gave the impression it was, a matter mutually arranged. In face of the absence on his part of the least response, she walked on at his side. "I'm the only one here in all this throng," she said in a confidential tone, "who isn't waiting to see the President."
"That's a lie!" he said to himself as he stalked on.