And he heard the whispered answers:
“A new debutante in the beau monde, I fancy.” Or—
“I don’t know, but that is young Lyon, of Richmond, who is escorting her.”
“Splendid woman!”
“Magnificent creature!” Etc., etc., etc.
As he saw and heard all this, Alexander was strongly affected with contradictory emotions. If the beautiful girl by his side had been undisputably his own, he might have witnessed the sensation she created, with unmixed pride and pleasure. But he had by his own rash act, lost his own once exclusive right over her, and even put himself beyond the circle of ordinary aspirants for her favor. And now the universal admiration her beauty excited, aroused his dog-in-the-manger jealousy, rather than flattered his pride.
And, upon the whole, not liking the situation, he stooped and whispered to his cousin:
“Shall I lead you to a seat now, Anna?”
“If you please,” she answered.
And he took her to a distant sofa, gave her the corner of it, and placed himself by her side.