“That is not all. You met in the Madison Avenue car yesterday my nephew, Mr. Percy de Brabazon.”
“It is coming,” thought Florence. “Who could have seen us?” Then aloud:
“Yes, madam.”
“Was it by appointment?”
“Do you mean to insult me, Mrs. Leighton?” demanded Florence, rising and looking at the lady with flashing eyes.
“I never insult anybody,” replied Mrs. Leighton. “Pray, resume your seat.”
Florence did so.
“Then I may assume that it was accidental. You talked together with the freedom of old friends?”
“You are correctly informed.”
“You seem to make acquaintances very readily, Miss Linden. It seems singular, to say the least, that after meeting my nephew for a single evening, you should become such intimate friends.”