Duncan hurriedly took his leave. Perhaps he feared that if he stayed longer, the girl might make her "no" a final one. Otherwise he hoped for a better outcome.
When he had gone, poor little Bab sat for a time in bewilderment. She still could not understand why such a man as Guilford Duncan—whom everybody regarded as the "coming man" in Cairo—should have chosen her, instead of some other, as the recipient of his invitation. She could not still a certain fluttering about her heart. She was full of joy, and yet she was sorely grieved that she must put aside what seemed to her a supreme opportunity to be happy for a time.
It was always her way, when any emotion pleased or troubled her, to go to her friend, Mrs. Richards, for strength and soothing. So, now she suddenly sprang up, put on her hat and wraps, and hurried to her one friend's home. The distance was so small that she needed no escort, particularly as Robert, who happened to be at the gate, could see her throughout the little journey. And she knew that the faithful negro boy would wait there until her return.
"You are all in a flurry, child," said her friend, for greeting. "What is it about? Do you come to me for advice, or sympathy, or consolation?"
For Mrs. Richards knew of Duncan's visit, and with a shrewd woman's wit she guessed that Barbara's disturbance of mind was in some way connected with that event.
"No," answered the girl. "I didn't come to consult you—at least I think I didn't—it is only that something has happened, and I want to tell you about it."
"Very well, dear. Go on."
"Oh, it's nothing very important. I don't know why I feel about it as I do, but——"
"Perhaps if you tell me what it is, I may help you to solve your riddles. What is it?"
"Why, only that Mr. Guilford Duncan has asked me to go with him to the party next week."