The Countess followed with a Mr. Walker, who collected eggs, and was believed to have been born at sea, which made him interesting in a way. Then came Maude Penfield, preceding Lena Livingston, according to the tonnage of their husbands' yachts. In truth, the whole procession gave in every rank new evidence of Clara's kindly forethought. For herself, she had not only the Extraordinary, but, by perverse fate, another.
"Mr. Hopworthy," she explained, bringing both dimples into play, "a very charming girl has disappointed us. I hope you don't mind walking three abreast."
Clara's untruths were never compromises. When they should be told, she told them, scorning to keep her score immaculate by subterfuge. "Though the Recording Angel may be strict," she often said with child-like faith, "I am convinced he is well-bred."
The pleasant flutter over dinner cards ended as it should in each guest being next the persons most desired—each guest, but not the hostess. For Jack's resourcefulness having accomplished the additional place, stopped short, and his readjustment of the cards, which had been by chance, had brought the Envoy upon Clara's left and given to Mr. Hopworthy the seat of honor.
For a moment Clara hesitated, hoping against hope for someone to be taken ill, for almost anything that might create an opportunity for a change of cards. But while she stood in doubt the diplomat most diplomatically sat down. Beyond him the Countess was already drawing off her gloves as though they had been stockings, and further on the gentleman born at sea seemed pleased to find his dinner roll so like an egg.
It was one of those unrecorded tragedies known only to woman. The failures of a man leave ruins to bear testimony to endeavor; a woman's edifice of cobweb falls without commotion, whatever pains its building may have cost.
"I gave you that seat," said Clara to the diplomat in dimpled confidence, "because the window on the other side lets in a perfect gale of draught."
"A most kind draught to blow me nearer my hostess's heart," he answered, much too neatly not to have said something of the sort before.
Fortunately both the Envoy and the Countess appreciated oysters, and before the soup came, Clara, outwardly herself again, could turn a smiling face to her unwelcome guest. But Mr. Hopworthy was bending toward Maude, who seemed very much amused. So was the man between them, and so were several others.