“No,” she said, “I think, perhaps, I had better not go, after all. But it is ever so nice of you to offer, Mr. Holway. You and Cousin Percy can take Father and Mother. That will be splendid.”
“Don't bother about me,” put in Daniel, hastily. Recitals were almost as distasteful as Chapter meetings or “At Homes” to his mind.
“It won't be any bother, I'm sure,” declared Gertrude. “Will it, Cousin Percy? Will it, Mr. Holway?”
Both the young gentlemen murmured their pleasure at the prospect of acting as escorts to the elder members of the Dott family. Serena said she would “see about it,” she couldn't say for certain whether or not she would be able to attend the recital. Captain Dan said nothing.
The conversation dragged somewhat after this. “Monty” and Mr. Hungerford addressed the greater portion of their remarks to Gertrude, only occasionally favoring Serena and Daniel with a word or question. To each other they were very uncommunicative. At last, however, after Mr. Holway had given a very full account of a “dinner dance” which he had recently attended, “a very exclusive affair, only the best people, you know,” Percy, who had been listening impatiently, turned toward him and drawled:
“I remember that dance. Beastly tiresome, I judged it would be, so I sent regrets. I heard you enjoyed yourself, old chap. Said I imagined so, considering your company. By the way, that must be getting quite serious, that affair of yours. When may we expect the announcement?”
Holway colored. His usual facility of speech seemed to have deserted him.
“Announcement!” he stammered. “Announcement! What—what—”
His friend laughed.
“Oh, it's all right, old man,” he observed. “Don't get excited. She's a charming girl. No one blames you.”