P.S.—I never suspected Jonkin of being a prude. He makes me feel thrillingly immoral—like a school-girl reading her first classic.”
When Noll arrived at the Malahides in the afternoon, Sir Pompey was away from home; but the ladies of the house greeted him gladly.
He had not been long with the two young women before he was overwhelmed with the embarrassment of their frank admiration.
The elder girl caused him no little uneasiness by her attitude towards him; which the buxom Miss Mary further increased by very soon and most openly expressing her design to find solace in the society of a youth from the city who was to escort her to some shopping, adding boldly that the figure of two had in it more likely elements of good company than the awkward wriggle called three; and, with a suggestive laugh, she swaggered out of the room.
Noll was never wholly at home amongst the crudities; but he shook off embarrassment, and made an effort to entertain the comely Judith.
But ordinary converse died a natural death—Judith Malahide was in no mood for words. She held the handsome young fellow with her handsome eyes; she was unwontedly quiet, and, for marvellous and becoming change, her bearing was restrained with the compelling dignity of passion.
She came and stood by him, and Noll realized, with a catch of the breath, that he was being drawn into the whirl of a reckless young woman’s inordinate desire.
“Why have you been so long away, Noll?” she asked.
Noll in a careless moment answered lightly:
“How was I to know that you thought it long, Miss Judith?”