“Oh no,” said Margaret; “it was nothing very important. Mr. Gaston was rude to Alan when he first came in, but he atoned for it as far as he could afterward.”
At this moment a handsome drag containing two gentlemen and a liveried servant was seen approaching, and, as it came up to them, one of the gentlemen recognized Margaret with a bow and a smile.
“There’s Alan now!” said Margaret. “I wonder who the gentleman is, who is driving.”
“It’s young Lord Waring,” said Mrs. Gaston, with animation. “He is attached to the British Legation—the minister’s nephew, I believe. And so that was Alan Decourcy! What a charming young man! I wonder how Louis could be rude to a man like that.”
It was Margaret’s usual habit to pass over such remarks as this from Cousin Eugenia, as she was convinced of the fruitlessness of argument in her case; but this speech touched her on such a sore point that she could not help saying, in rather keen tones:
“A man who could be rude to any one whomsoever, must be somewhat difficult to count upon, I should think. He must be often puzzled to decide whom to treat civilly and whom to snub.”
“Oh, there you go, with your high-flown Southern notions,” retorted Mrs. Gaston, with imperturbable good-humor. “You’re your father’s own child! But we must have this elegant young man to dinner. Do you happen to know if he is engaged for this evening?”
“No,” said Margaret, “I didn’t hear him say.”
“He will probably call during the day.”
“No, he will not,” said Margaret, decidedly. “He told me he should not see me again before going to Baltimore. But he is to make arrangements for me to go over for a little visit soon, and I shall see him then.”