“If I am not going to crowd you, I shall accept your kind invitation and hide about here,” said Robert Gunther, taking a chair behind Elvira.
“Bob Gunther is always such a good boy that I always like to follow his example; so, with your kind permission, Mr. Darrell, I shall sit here behind you. Keep your chair,” said Mr. Selden, refusing to change seats with Clarence.
But Mercedes saw that this arrangement was not as satisfactory as might be, so she moved her chair, and making room for Clarence on her left, told Mr. Selden to push his chair further to the front, on her right. This was a more desirable distribution, and it pleased Clarence better, for she would turn her face to him on looking at the stage. Still, there was that odious little fellow with his red mutton chops sitting so near her, that he wanted to pitch him out of the box. Mercedes watched for an opportunity to say to him:
“You look unhappy; have I done anything to displease you?”
“No, never!” he quickly answered, but did not dare to look at her. Presently he added: “It is too painful to think that only for one day more I can see you, then we must part, and—and others will be with you.”
“Could you not go with us as far as the Yosemite?”
Clarence turned quickly to look at her, and her eyes had that sweet, loving expression which, to him, was always irresistible, entrancing. He had never seen it in any other eyes, and in hers only very seldom.
“Oh! if you will only let me.”
“Let you! Your pleasure is the only thing to consult.”
“Then I know what I shall do.”