“Miss Sallie, I feel like I’ve known you ever since I was born.” She blushed and made no reply.
Dinner was announced, and Gaston was amazed to see Allan McLeod enter chattering familiarly with the General. He seemed on the most intimate terms with the family and his eye lingered fondly on Sallie’s face in a way that somehow Gaston resented as an impertinence.
“I didn’t even know you were acquainted with the Hon. Allan McLeod, Miss Sallie,” said Gaston as they entered the parlour alone.
“Yes, he was a sort of ward of Papa’s when he was a boy. Papa hates his politics, but he has always been in and out almost like one of the family since I can remember. I think he’s’ a fascinating man, don’t you?”
“I do, but I don’t like him.”
“Well, he’s a great friend of mine, you mustn’t quarrel.”
Gaston went to the hotel with his brain in a whirl wondering just what she meant. It was nearly twelve o’clock before he left the General’s house. How he had passed these eleven hours he could not imagine. They seemed like eleven minutes in one way. In another he seemed to have lived a lifetime that day.
“By George, she’s an angel!” he kept saying over and over to himself as he climbed to his room forgetting the elevator.