She looked down at her fan a moment, then answered, very quietly:
“So all clergymen over forty are either hypocrites or fools. It must be very satisfying to entertain a thorough contempt for so large a profession.”
“Oh, don’t say contempt. Rather an excess of sympathy for the unfortunate.”
At that moment Horace Bennett, in ascending the stairs, stopped for an instant upon the landing and stood facing them. His eyes rested upon herself and Mr. Judd, then she saw him glance at the marble Cupid who, with his finger to his lips, seemed acting as a sentinel for whatever lovers were within. Then he pulled the ends of his miserable little mustache, and with a half-suppressed smile muttered something to his companion, and they passed up the stairs. The hot blood flew to her cheeks as she recalled what he had said earlier in the evening of this man beside her: “We were sure to find him tucked away on the stairs or out on the porch with a girl. So we called him the Bellehugger of Spoonmore.”
Never in her life had she felt so degraded, so cheapened in her own esteem. Hot, cold, with burning cheeks, and tears of mortification in her eyes she rose from her seat, pressing a handkerchief against her lips, and stepped swiftly out upon the landing and down into the hall. Mr. Judd followed and inquired anxiously if she were ill; could he do anything? His solicitude, which was genuine, caused her to realize how extraordinary her behavior must appear to him. The close air in the alcove, she answered coldly, must have affected her. It was only a little dizziness.
To her great relief a young man came hurrying up, and exclaimed:
“I have been looking everywhere for you, Miss Cabot! The cotillion is on!”
A formal nod to Mr. Judd, and she moved away with an unuttered prayer that their paths in future might be far apart. Her wish was granted, at least for that night, for she saw him no more at the Van Koovers’.
When she reached home and entered her own chamber, the moonlight was streaming into the room, and before turning up the lights she had the curiosity to stand near the window with a hand-glass and study her own reflection. Only the usual face was there, and as usual, the nose was too short, the chin too long, and all the other defects were present; but even in the moonlight they seemed hardly sufficient to frighten a strong young man.