“I wish you could see who they are, George,” said Totty rather impatiently. “It is so awkward—not knowing.”
“I think it is Miss Fearing,” George answered slowly, “with her sister and John Bond.”
He was the only one of the three who did not change colour a little as the party drew near. Mamie’s marble forehead grew a shade whiter, and Totty’s pretty pink face a little more pink. She was annoyed at being taken unawares, and was sorry that George was present. As for Mamie, her grey eyes sparkled rather coldly, and her large, even lips were tightly closed over her beautiful teeth. But George was imperturbable, and it would have been impossible to guess from his face what he felt. He observed the three curiously as they approached the verandah. He thought that Constance looked pale and thin, and he recognised in Grace and her husband that peculiar appearance of expensive and untarnished newness which characterises newly-married Americans.
“I am so glad you have come over!” Totty exclaimed with laudably hospitable insincerity. “It is an age since we have seen any of you!”
Mamie gave Constance her hand and said something civil, though she fixed her grey eyes on the other’s blue ones with singular and rather disagreeable intensity.
“George has been talking to her about me, I suppose,” thought Miss Fearing as she turned and shook hands with George himself.
Grace looked at him quietly and pressed his hand with unmistakable cordiality. Her husband shook hands energetically with every one, inquired earnestly how each one was doing, and then looked at the river. He felt rather uncomfortable, because he knew that every one else did, but he made no attempt to help the difficulty by opening the conversation. He was not a talkative man. Totty, however, lost no time in asking a score of questions, to all of which she knew the answers. George found himself seated between Constance and Grace.
“Have you been here long, Mr. Wood?” Constance asked, turning her head to George and paying no attention to Totty’s volley of inquiries.
“Since the first of June,” George answered quietly, and then relapsed into silence, not knowing what to say. He was not really so calm as he appeared to be, and the suddenness of the visit had slightly confused his thoughts.
“I supposed that you were in New York,” said Constance, who seemed determined to talk to him, and to no one else. “Will you not come over and see us?” she asked.