And Mabel was a very delightful object for the eyes to rest upon. Joe himself, of course, was not a competent witness. If any one had asked him to describe her, he would have answered that she was a combination of Cleopatra and Madame Recamier and all the other famous beauties of history. What the unbiased observer would have seen was a very charming girl, sweet and womanly, with lustrous brown eyes, wavy hair whose tendrils persisted in playing hide and seek about her ears, dimples that came and went in a maddening fashion and a flower-like mouth, revealing two rows of pearly teeth when she smiled, which was often.
Even Reggie was moved to compliment her when he came in again after his interview with the head waiter.
“My word, Sis, but you’re blooming to-night, don’t you know,” he remarked, as he went across the room and put his hand caressingly on her shoulder. “This little trip must be doing you good. You’ve got such a splendid color, don’t you know.”
“Just think of it! A compliment from a brother! Wonder of wonders!” she laughed merrily.
Perhaps if she had cared to, she might have enlightened the obtuse Reggie as to the cause of the heightened color that enhanced her loveliness. Joe, too, could have made a shrewd guess at it.
But now the waiters came bustling in and they talked of indifferent things until the table was spread. A sumptuous meal was brought in, and the three sat down to as merry a little dinner party as there was that night in the city of New York.
“How honored we are, Reggie,” exclaimed Mabel, “to have the great Mr. Matson as our guest! There are hundreds of people who would give their eyes for such a chance.”
She flashed a mocking glance at Joe who grew red, as she knew he would. The little witch delighted in making him blush. It made his bronzed face still more handsome, she thought.