[XIII]
MRS. PENNINGTON’S BROUGHAM
There was a general movement of dispersal, and Philip Gallatin, who had now given up all hope of the opportunity Nellie Pennington had promised him, followed the party into the hall, his eyes following Jane, who had found her hostess and was making her adieux. He watched her slender figure as she made her way up the stairs, and turned to Mrs. Pennington reproachfully.
“Don’t speak, Phil,” his hostess whispered. “It’s all arranged. Go at once and get your things.”
Gallatin obeyed quickly and when he came down he heard Mrs. Pennington saying, “So sorry, Jane. Your machine came, but the butler sent it home again. There was some mistake in the orders, it seems. But I’ve ordered my brougham, and it’s waiting at the door for you. You don’t mind, do you? I’ve asked Mr. Gallatin to see that you get home safely.”
“Of course, it’s very kind of you, dear.” She hesitated. “But it seems too bad to trouble Mr. Gallatin.”
“I’m sure—I’m delighted,” he said, and it was evident that he meant it.
Jane Loring glanced around her quickly, helplessly it seemed to Gallatin, but the sight of Coleman Van Duyn, waiting hat in hand, helped her to a decision.
“It’s so kind of you, Mr. Gallatin,” she said gratefully, and then, in a whisper as she kissed her hostess, “Nellie, you’re simply odious!” and made her way out of the door.
Gallatin followed quickly, but Miss Loring reached the curb before him and giving her number to the coachman, got in without the proffered hand of her escort.