With these words he strode across the room, and seated himself with a sigh of relief by Priscilla’s side.
“What are you doing all by yourself?” he said, cheerfully. “Is no one attending to you? Are you always to be left like a poor little forsaken mouse in the background?”
“I am not at all lonely,” said Prissie.
“I thought you hated to be alone.”
“I did, the other day, in that drawing-room; but not in this. People are all kind in this.”
“You are right. Our hostess is most genial and sympathetic.”
“And the guests are nice, too,” said Prissie; “at least, they look nice.”
“Ay, but you must not be taken in by appearances. Some of them only look nice.”
“Do you mean?” began Prissie in her abrupt, anxious voice.
Hammond took alarm. He remembered her peculiar outspokenness.