Her eyes and voice expressed her contempt, and Peter felt it, and utterly crestfallen and abashed, went back to Godfrey and said:
“I tole you she wouldn’t, and she won’t.”
“Oh, bother; but never mind, there’s,—but no.”
And Godfrey stopped short in what he was going to say.
Gertie had paid her respects to Edith, and then, attracted by the music, made her way to the breakfast-room and stood within the door.
Godfrey’s first thought when he saw her was to give her to Peterkin for a partner, but some undefined feeling forced the impulse back. He could see proud Alice Creighton dance with Peter and think it rare fun, but not this beautiful child, who might thus be classed with the lout. Her partners must be the best in the room, Robert Macpherson, and himself, and young Ransom, the judge’s son, who fortunately came that way just then looking for a lady.
“Here, Will. We want you here. Let me introduce you to the prettiest girl in the room,” Godfrey said; and the next moment Gertie stood upon the floor opposite Robert and Julia Schuyler.
How pretty and graceful she was, and how well she went through with the dance, never making the slightest mistake, but seeming to carry her tall partner along by the airy ease of her motions.
“I say, Schuyler, who is that princess in disguise I have just danced with?” young Ransom said to Godfrey, after he had led Gertie to a seat.
“She is a princess in disguise, I do believe. Isn’t she pretty though?” Godfrey replied; and then he told what he knew of Gertie Westbrooke, and added, laughingly: “But hands off, if you please. She is only thirteen, and I will not have her harmed.”