Mr. Lyle bowed to the young ladies, and then, taking his companion up to Emma Cavendish, he said, with old-fashioned formality:
"Miss Cavendish, permit me to present to you my friend Mr. Brent, of San Francisco."
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Brent," said the young lady, with a graceful bend of her fair head.
But in an instant the Californian seemed to have lost his self-possession.
He stared for a moment almost rudely at the young lady: he turned red and pale, drew a long breath; then, with an effort, recovered himself and bowed deeply.
Miss Cavendish was surprised; but she was too polite and self-possessed to let her surprise appear. She mentally ascribed the disturbance of her visitor to some passing cause.
Mr. Lyle, who had not noticed his companion's agitation, now presented him to Laura Lytton and to Electra Coroni.
To Laura he bowed gravely and calmly.
But when he met the wild eyes of Electra he started violently and exclaimed:
"Sal's—" then stopped abruptly, bowed and took the chair that his friend placed for him.