Margaret assented readily, and the order was accordingly given.
A moment later the servant came into the room, presenting two cards on a tray. Gaston glanced at them, and Margaret saw his face change slightly.
“I am afraid Eugenia will make me suffer for this,” he said. “One of these visitors was young Leary.”
“Who is he?” asked Margaret, simply.
“You surely know who the Learys are?” Gaston replied, in a tone of reproachful incredulity that was almost severe. “They come of one of the most distinguished families at the North, and are here for the winter. The father of this young man has held various important diplomatic and political offices. They visit very little, and Eugenia will be annoyed that young Leary has not been admitted. I don’t think he has ever called here before, except to acknowledge an invitation. He sat near us at the theatre the other night, and I saw that he observed you; so this visit is probably a tribute to you.”
“I don’t know that you have said anything about him to make me regret him especially,” said Margaret, “only that he’s Mr. Leary; and what’s in a name? Is there any reason why one should particularly desire him as an acquaintance?”
Mr. Gaston looked slightly bewildered. Then he began to speak, and checked himself suddenly. Then, turning back to the piano, and beginning to look over the music, he said, somewhat hurriedly:
“It is only that they are people it’s well to be civil to.”
There was something in the tone Louis took, in regard to this matter, that puzzled Margaret—a tone that had also puzzled her in the other members of the Gaston family. There seemed to be a certain anxiety with all of them to know the right people, and be seen at the proper houses, and have only the best people at their own. Margaret Trevennon, for her part, had never had a qualm of this sort in her life, and supposed, moreover, that only vulgar or uncertainly posed people could possibly be subject to them. And yet here were people who were not only not vulgar but more elegant and charming than any men and women she had ever known, who were entitled to, and actually held, an unimpeachable social position, and who yet seemed to find it necessary to struggle hard to maintain it, and were continually possessed by a positive anxiety to appear to be distinguished! Really, it seemed their first and principal concern. This was the first time she had seen a decided indication of the feeling in Louis Gaston, and somehow it hurt her more in him than in the others. Unconsciously she gave a little sigh.
“Dear me!” she thought to herself, “what an unpleasant idea! Why need people assume anything, when they actually have it all? It never occurred to me that really nice people could give themselves any concern of this sort.”