He bowed gracefully, in a manner which would have reflected credit upon many a “carpet knight.”
“Ah!” he said, softly, “I am very glad to see you are able to be up and about. Please accept my sincerest wishes for your health.”
She did not raise her head, but sat as if in a trance. He went on:
“May I call you Miss Katie? Please do not be offended if I do. It seems so much more pleasant than cold, formal Miss Jeffries. Besides, my ardent regard for you causes me to use a more familiar title.”
But she did not notice him. After watching for any effect his remarks might produce, he lounged gracefully upon his pile of robes, and took a meerschaum from his pocket.
“A relic of former days,” he said, in a musing tone. “May I so far trespass upon your good-humor as to smoke? A vice to which gentlemen are much addicted. The dear ladies, however, in their sweet graciousness, not only grant their permission generally, but protest they ‘like the perfume of a good cigar.’ Here’s to the ladies—one in particular, the bonniest of them all. Having no claret to quaff their health in, I am forced to be satisfied with a meerschaum and very villainous tobacco. Miss Katie, your own health.”
He puffed out a wreath of smoke with exquisite effrontery, and smiled as a low moan escaped her lips.
“You are looking lovely to-day, Miss Katie—very enchanting. If you only knew how my heart bleeds for you in your present embarrassing situation, you would at least reward me with one of your sweet smiles. Let us hope, however, that the present place may soon become pleasant, even dear to you. I will do all in my power to make it so, I assure you.”
His last remark had the effect of partially arousing her from her apathy. She looked at him mournfully, with a glance in which were mingled grief, outraged modesty, terror and contempt. He laughed.
“You are very beautiful—very lovely. When you gazed at me so earnestly just now, my heart beat faster than its usual wont, and I imagined I could detect a sly twinkle of love, too. Was my surmise correct, Katie?”