“I will try to be ready, sir.”
As Alick spoke, Anna came in.
She wore an elegant morning robe of white cashmere lined and faced with quilted white satin, and trimmed with black velvet and jet, and fastened around the waist with a black silk cord and tassels. She seemed no worse for her long season of fashionable dissipation, but looked stately, blooming and beautiful as ever.
Alexander arose and greeted her with more than usual empressement, and led her to a seat.
The breakfast was served. And the general telling Alexander that it would do quite as well for a luncheon, invited him to sit down to the table.
While lingering over the late morning meal, they talked of the just closed session of Congress and season of fashion, and the general again pressed Alick to join his party at old Lyon Hall. And in the presence of his beautiful betrothed, Alick could neither refuse nor hesitate to accept the invitation. So he gave his promise to accompany his uncle and cousin to their home.
After the breakfast was finished, and the service was removed, the general arose, saying that he would go down into the reading-room and look over the morning papers, he left the parlor.
Alexander and Anna were alone.
“At last, then, I have the opportunity of speaking to you, that I have so long desired,” whispered Alick, as he went and took a seat on the sofa, by the side of his betrothed.
She received him very quietly, if not coldly.