“Goodness!” she cried, when he gave it back to her. “Look at this, Paddy! Did you ever see such cool impudence?”
“They’re nearly all promised to me,” said Paddy calmly, “so it’s of no consequence, and now we can both treat him as we like. He’ll be very useful if we get partners we don’t like, and, of course, he can’t dance with anyone else.”
“No of course not—what fun,” and Doreen and Paddy went of gayly, while Jack sought Eileen.
“He’s put the supper-dance very black, so he means that,” said Doreen. “Why isn’t he having it with you as usual?”
“I guess he thought he’d like a change,” Paddy replied loyally, “and quite time,” and Doreen was satisfied.
The next moment a voice in Paddy’s ear, with a ring in it that she could not well mistake, said quietly:
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Miss Adair.”
“Then you must be very blind,” she answered brightly, “for in my own estimation I’ve been very much en évidence all the time so far. But perhaps you did not recognise me?”
“Perhaps,” with a little smile, and Ted Masterman surveyed her in that quiet, masterly way of his, that always made Paddy feel rebellious, with the most unmistakable admiration written on his face.
“You look like the Great Mogul,” she exclaimed, “criticising me in that calmly superior way. It’s all my own hair; don’t be alarmed.”