"I hear you are coming over to spend a fortnight with us, Miss Castleton," said he pleasantly.
Hetty started. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Wrandall," she said, although he had spoken very distinctly.
"Leslie mentioned it a—oh, some time ago, my dear. This is the first time I have seen you, otherwise I should have added my warmest appeal for you to come early and to stay late. Ha-ha! Hope you will find your way to our place, Brandon. You are always a most welcome visitor."
The girl walked on in silence, her lips set with curious firmness. Booth looked at her and indulged in a queer little smile, to which she responded with a painful flush.
"Vivian expects to have a few friends out at the same time—very quietly, you know, and without much of a hurrah. Young ladies you ought to know in New York, my dear Miss Castleton. I dare say you will remember all of them, Brandon."
"I dare say," said Booth, without interest.
"I understand the portrait is finished," went on the old gentleman, blissfully oblivious to the disturbance he had created. "Mrs. Wrandall says it is wonderful, Brandon. You won't mind showing it to me? I am very much interested."
"Glad to have you see it, sir."
"Thanks."
He slackened his pace, an uneasy frown appearing between his eyes.