“You see,” said Parker, with an admiring glance at her eyes, in spite of the fact that the coolness of her reception rather abashed him—“you see, I have not delayed very long in coming.”
“So I perceive,” returned Marguerite, with a bored manner. “That’s what I said to Mrs. Willard as I came down. You don’t allow your friends much leeway, Mr. Parker. It doesn’t seem more than five minutes since we were together at the card party.”
(“That’s cordial, eh?” said Harley, as I read. “Nice sort of talk for a heroine to a hero. Makes it easy for me, eh?”
“I must say if you manage to get a proposal in now you’re a genius,” said I.
“Oh—as for that, I got reckless when I saw how things were going,” returned Harley. “I lost my temper, and took it out of poor Parker. He proposes, as you will see when you come to it; but it isn’t realism—it’s compulsion. I simply forced him into it—poor devil. But go on and read for yourself.”
This was hardly the treatment Parker had expected at the hands of one who had been undeniably gracious to him at the card-table the night before. He had received the notice that she was to be his partner at the tables with misgivings, on his arrival at Mrs. Stoughton’s, because his recollection of her behavior towards him at the MacFarland dance had led him to believe that he was personally distasteful to her; but as the evening at cards progressed he felt instinctively drawn towards her, and her vivacity of manner, cleverness at repartee, and extreme amiability towards himself had completely won his heart, which victory their little tête-à-tête during supper had confirmed. But here, this morning, was reversion to her first attitude. What could it mean? Why should she treat him so?
(“I couldn’t answer that question to save my life,” said Stuart. “That is, not then, but I found out later. I put it in, however, and let Parker draw his own conclusions. I’d have helped him out if I could, but I couldn’t. Go on and see for yourself.”
I resumed.)
Parker could not solve the problem, but it pleased him to believe that something over which he had no control had gone wrong that morning, and that this had disturbed her equanimity, and that he was merely the victim of circumstances; and somehow or other it pleased him also to think that he could be the victim of her circumstances, so he stood his ground.