“Yes,” sneered the lady in the easy-chair, “Mr. Dinsmore has an eye for the charms of every woman except his wife.”
But no one heeded or seemed to hear the remark.
Mildred had taken the hand of the younger lady, saying, as she gazed with affectionate admiration into the blooming face, “And this is Adelaide? You were but a child when I saw you last—eight years ago.”
“And now I am very nearly as old as my Sister Rose, who is already a wife and mother,” was the smiling rejoinder.
“Rose must have married very young,” said Mildred, looking admiringly at her cousin’s wife.
“My mother thought so,” said Rose playfully, “and for Adelaide’s sake I shall not deny it.”
At this moment her husband came in with the two little girls; fresh greetings had to be exchanged and Annis introduced to those present who had never seen her before.
Elsie glanced about the room and felt a sense of relief in perceiving that Enna was not there.
Mildred noticed that while Mr. and Mrs. Travilla and Adelaide all greeted the little girl with affectionate warmth, her grandfather and his wife returned her respectful salutation, the one with cool indifference, the other with scarcely concealed aversion.
Her father saw it too; his cheek flushed, his eye flashed, and beckoning Elsie to his side, he put his arm about her, and held her there, now and then caressing her hair and cheek with his other hand while he conversed with his friends.