“Come along, Eileen; I’ve been playing your rôle of family beauty for nearly ten minutes, just to see how it felt, but ‘harum-scarum Paddy’ suits me best, and you’ve come just at the right time to save me from a total collapse.”
Jack took a step forward to the staircase, with all his soul in his eyes, as Eileen came slowly down, saying:
“Don’t be silly, Paddy. I’m sure the first place is yours to-night.”
Jack said nothing, but he thought he had never in all his life seen anything so beautiful as Eileen Adair. She wore white only, and the fluffy, lacy style that was so becoming to Paddy was replaced in her dress by an almost severe simplicity, that suited perfectly her Madonna-like sweetness, and deep, calm, wonderful eyes.
“Well, we won’t let Jack be a second Paris, anyhow,” laughed Paddy, “because he would not give a perfectly unbiased judgment, being already prejudiced. But where are the aunties?” turning to the drawing-room, from which came a sound of voices; “are they here yet?”
“Rather!” exclaimed Jack impressively. “You just see! I tell you, you and Eileen are not in it,” and they all crossed the hall together.
Paddy threw open the drawing-room door with a flourish, and, as they entered, exclaimed, “Behold!—not the meeting of the two great monarchs of old, but the meeting of the reigning beauties of Omeath to-day.”
Then she darted forward toward the two little ladies, crying, “Oh, you look just lovely!—lovely! I really must hug you.”
“Oh! my dear! my dear!” they both gasped, and Miss Jane got quickly behind her chair, while Miss Mary fluttered across the room and ensconced herself behind the sofa.
“What’s the matter!” cried Paddy. “I won’t touch you—I promise I won’t. Do come out and let us have a full view.”