“Bertie always said so, when I wore my hair like this,” she answered, delightedly. “He loves it this way best of all. I was so afraid I’d look too old to do it; but if I have grown old and thin, thank the good God, it doesn’t show to-night!”
It was the first expression of religious fervor that Mrs. Bryan had ever heard her use; but as she said this, she clasped her hands and looked upward in a rapture of thanksgiving, the sincerity of which could not be doubted.
“Fleecy, do you know who’s coming?” she exclaimed, suddenly catching the big cat up, and looking into its face as if it had been a child’s. “Master, Fleecy—master!”
Fleecy certainly pricked up her ears, seeing which her mistress covered her with rapturous kisses, while Mrs. Bryan had more than a suspicion that Fleecy mistook the word “master” for “mouse;” but this she would not have dared to suggest.
“Isn’t it after eight?” said Mimi, looking at the little clock on the mantel. “Oh, if he shouldn’t come!” And at the thought of this the color faded from her cheeks. It came bounding back, however, the next minute, as the door-bell was heard.
When Mrs. Bryan reached the landing at the head of the stairs, she found Mauma leaning over the railing and looking into the hall below.
“Is it Mr. Leith?” Mrs. Bryan asked.
“Yes, it’s him—the ugly buzzard!” answered Mauma, with intense disgust.
It was impossible not to smile at this comment as applied to the man whom Mrs. Bryan now went forward to meet. She acknowledged at once, as she saw him shaking the thick snowflakes from the collar of his coat, that his beauty had not been exaggerated. He was a magnificent, blond creature, with youthful strength and health in every line of figure and face. A ready smile of good humor rose to his lips, as he took off his hat with a splendid grace and made Mrs. Bryan a bow.
“Mrs. Leith is expecting you,” she said. “Will you go up to her sitting-room?”