He drifted easily into chat of home people and affairs, and she felt more and more contented every minute. After all, he was of her own people, linked to them and to her. It was comfortable to be with some one whom one thoroughly understood. There was no recess of his mind with which she was not intimately acquainted. She could foretell his mental processes as easily as she could read the time on her watch. It was tremendously restful, after her contact with the stronger personalities which she had found here. She had been wondering in what indefinable manner Howard had changed, but now she began to see that it was she who had shifted her viewpoint. The men she had met here, with the exception of such as Van Ploon and Cunningham and Ted Teasdale, were far more complex than Howard, a quality which at times might be more interesting than agreeable.
A rush of noise filled the hall. Lucile and Ted Teasdale, handsome Dick Rodley and Arly Fosland and Houston Van Ploon, had come clattering in as an escort for Mrs. Davies, whose pet fad was to have as many young people as possible bring her home from any place.
The young man from back home took his plunge into that vortex with becoming steadiness. Gail had looked to see him a trifle bewildered, and would have had small criticism for him if he had, but he greeted them all on a friendly basis, and, sitting down again beside her, crossed his legs, while Mrs. Davies calmly lorgnetted him.
“Where’s the baby?” demanded handsome Dick Rodley, heading for the stairs.
“Silly, you mustn’t!” cried Lucile, and started after him. “Flakes should be asleep at this hour.”
“I came in for the sole purpose of teaching Flakes the turkey trot,” declared handsome Dick, and ran away, followed by Lucile.
“Lucile’s becoming passé,” criticised Ted. “She’s flirting with Rodley for the second time.”
“Can you blame her?” defended Arly, stealing a surreptitious glance at the young man from back home, then the devil of mischief seized her and she leaned forward. “Do you flirt, Mr. Clemmens?”
For once the easy assurance of Howard left him, and he blushed. The stiff, but kindly disposed Van Ploon came to his rescue.
“Perhaps Mr. Clemmens is not yet married,” he suggested.