CHAPTER VIII
SO it was, through the curious little twirl of circumstance which took Fliss, elated, and Cecily, reluctant, to the Palladium Hotel on the same night, that Matthew Allenby met Cecily. He saw her across the room at first. The Palladium was one of those public places to which people went to get rid of the ennui caused by their own circle of friends, but they were always careful to surround themselves with enough of their friends to put their attendance in the proper light. The fact that you were at the Palladium had no significance. The point was—with whom were you at the Palladium?
Fliss was delightfully conscious of the “rightness” of her companions. Matthew Allenby and the young Frederick Craigs were an effective trio and Fliss was radiant in the red georgette. Allenby watched her with enjoyment. He liked vivid things, alive things, and possibly it was to that fever for life in Fliss that her invitation to-night was due. She tried to teach him to dance, scolding him for his awkwardness in her impudent way and he seemed to like that too.
They were seating themselves after a dance when he followed Fliss’s gay little nod with his eyes and saw Cecily. She had not been dancing, but her head was lifted to smile at Dick and Mollie, coming back breathless.
“Who is that girl?” asked Matthew.
“What girl?”
“The one over there smiling at Dick Harrison.”
The Craigs and Fliss laughed together. “Why, that’s his wife!”
“Of course,” said Matthew. “I’d forgotten he was married. He did it up in haste and I was East all last spring. Her name was Moore, wasn’t it?”
“Good-looking, isn’t she?”