“Does he intend coming at all?” she reflected, thinking of Swinton.
“Does he intend coming to us?” was the reflection of Julia, her thoughts dwelling upon Maynard.
Her eyes, too, were on him. He was still approaching, though slowly. He was hindered by the hurrying couples as they took position on the floor. But she could see that he was looking toward them—herself and cousin—where they stood.
He evidently approached with an air of indecision, his glance appearing to interrogate them.
It must have been met by one of encouragement, for his demeanour became suddenly changed and stepping up to the two young ladies, he saluted them with a bow.
By both the salutation was returned, perhaps more cordially than he had been expecting.
Both appeared to be still unengaged. To which ought he to offer himself? He knew which he would have chosen, but there was a question of etiquette.
As it turned out, there was no question of choice.
“Julia, my dear,” said Mrs Girdwood, presenting a very stylishly-dressed individual, who had just been given in charge to her by one of the stewards. “I hope you have not engaged yourself for the quadrille? I’ve promised you to this gentleman. Mr Smithson—my daughter.”
Julia glanced at Smithson, and then looked as if she wished him far enough.