"Oh, Trevor, here you are! And you've brought Bertie as you promised." She gave her other hand to Bertrand with the words, but she did not speak to him—she went on talking to her fiancé. "I've had a tremendous day, and thank you a million times for—you know what. It's a good thing you booked your dances beforehand, for I haven't any left."
"Not one for me?" murmured Bertrand, as he bent over her hand.
She turned to him with a radiant smile. "Yes, yes, of course! Should I be likely to forget all old pal like you? Trevor, will you introduce him to Aunt Philippa?"
"My friend Mr. Bertrand," said Mordaunt promptly.
Mrs. Forest acknowledged the introduction with extreme chilliness. She strongly disapproved of Chris's faculty for developing unexpected friendships. The child was so regrettably free-and-easy in all her ways. Of course, if Trevor Mordaunt approved of their intimacy, and apparently he did, there was nothing to be said, but she herself could not regard it with favour. Once more she congratulated herself that her responsibilities where Chris was concerned were nearly at an end.
But if her greeting were cold, Bertrand scarcely had time to remark it, for his attention was instantly diverted by the red-haired youth who lounged behind her. Max, whose presence had been annoying his aunt all day, thrust out a welcoming hand to the new-comer.
"Hullo!" he said. "You, is it?"
Bertrand raised his brows. He gave his hand, after an instant's hesitation, with a non-committing, "Myself—yes."
Max drew him aside out of the crowd. "It's all right. I'm Chris's brother, and I shan't give you away. But how long do you expect to remain incog., I wonder? I knew your face the moment I saw you on the stairs."
"You know me?" said Bertrand, drawing back a little.