The sentence ended in a little sigh. There was no denying the fact that Louis Gaston’s descent from the pedestal upon which she had mentally placed him, had been a great blow.
Miss Trevennon’s time passed very agreeably in Baltimore. Mrs. Guion, as yet, had only a small circle of friends, but most of these called upon her cousin, and several invitations resulted from these visits. As to Alan, the number of invitations he received was quite amusing. He had been twice to the club, and had delivered only one or two of his various letters, and made only one or two visits, when the cards of invitation began to pour in. He happened to have a few desirable acquaintances in Baltimore, his appearance was distinguished, and he was known to be rich, and these three facts, taken together, sufficiently account for the degree of popularity of which he found himself possessed.
One thing that rather surprised Margaret was the readiness with which her cousin would throw aside other engagements in order to drive her out, or take her to the theatre, or contribute, in any way, to her enjoyment. He even stayed at home one whole rainy evening, when Mrs. Guion was engaged up-stairs with one of the children, who was unwell, in order, as he distinctly avowed, to have a long talk with her.
When Miss Trevennon and Mr. Decourcy found themselves alone in the drawing-room, the latter threw himself, at full length, upon a low lounge, drawn up before the fire, and, fixing his eyes enjoyingly on Margaret, as she sat opposite, he drew a long breath of restful satisfaction, saying:
“Now this is real enjoyment. You don’t know it, perhaps, but it is just what I have longed for. Amy has really done this room charmingly, and has contrived to get precisely the atmosphere I like in it. The confusion of sweet and pungent odors from those plants yonder is just faint enough to be agreeable; and, far above all, my fair cousin, with her silken draperies and beautiful pose, puts a climax to my happiness. You have a talent for attitude, my Marguerite—do you know it? You always place yourself to advantage. I don’t know whether it is nature or art, but it is equally admirable, in either case.”
Margaret, who sat in a deep chair with her arms laid along its padded sides, and her hands lightly clasping the rounded ends, her long silk gown falling away to the left, while her figure was slightly turned toward her cousin at her right, fixed her eyes upon the points of her little slippers, crossed before her, and remained profoundly still.
For a moment the young man looked at her in silence, and then he said:
“Why are you so quiet, dear Daisy?”
“I am unwilling to alter the pose that has won your approbation,” she said demurely. “Don’t you think if I retained it long enough I might ‘be struck so,’ as the man in Patience says?”
“I should be inclined to discourage that idea,” said Alan, “as I was about to ask you to draw your seat a little nearer, and transfer your hands from the chair’s arms to my head. You know I always liked you to run your long fingers through and through my hair. Have you forgotten how you used to do it? I can assure you I have not.”