“If you start, you’ll play the entire evening with her—we don’t change partners, here.”
“And what will you do?” he asked.
“Look on—at the other table. She will have my place. I was going to play with you.”
“Then the greater the sacrifice I’m making, the greater the credit I should receive.”
“It depends—on how you acquit yourself,” she said gayly. “There are the others, now—come along.”
There were six of them. Miss Tilghman, Miss Lashiel and Miss Tayloe, Mr. Dangerfield, Mr. Leigh, and Mr. Byrd. They all had heard of Croyden’s arrival, in Hampton, and greeted him as they would one of themselves. And it impressed 79 him, as possibly nothing else could have done—for it was distinctly new to him, after the manners of chilliness and aloofness which were the ways of Northumberland.
“We are going to play Bridge, Miss Erskine, will you stay and join us?” asked Miss Carrington.
“I shall be charmed! charmed!” was the answer. “This is an ideal evening for Bridge, don’t you think so, Mr. Croyden?”
“Yes, that’s what we thought!” said Miss Tilghman, dryly.
“And who is to play with me, dear Davila?” Miss Erskine inquired.