With all his prejudices, Mr. Stanton could not help confessing that Herbert was a boy of whom any uncle might be proud. Though plainly dressed, he did not seem out of place at a fashionable concert, surrounded by well-dressed people.
It must not be supposed that Herbert was left in ignorance of the vicinity of the only relations he had in the city.
“There's Tom Stanton, just behind you, with his father and mother and sister,” whispered Julia.
Herbert turned his head slightly. He was desirous of seeing what his uncle and aunt were like. His uncle met his gaze, and turned uncomfortably away, appearing not to know him, yet conscious that in his affected ignorance he was acting shabbily. Mrs. Stanton did not flinch, but bent a cold gaze of scrutiny upon the unwelcome nephew. Tom looked supercilious, and elevated his pug nose a trifle. Maria, only, looked as if she would like to know her cousin.
It was only a hasty glance on Herbert's part, but it brought him to a rapid conclusion that he would not claim relationship. If any advances were made, they must come from the other side.
Tom fidgeted in his seat, watching with ill-concealed vexation the confidential conversation which appeared to be going on between Julia and his cousin.
“What she can see in that boor, I can't imagine,” he said to himself.
Moreover, though Julia had looked around, she had not deigned any recognition of himself, and this hurt his pride. He finally determined to overlook the neglect, and address her, which he could readily do, as he sat almost directly behind her.
“Good-evening, Miss Julia,” he said, familiarly, bending forward.
“Oh, good-evening, Mr. Stanton,” said Julia, coldly, just turning slightly. “Herbert, isn't that a beautiful song?”