“I did! I thank you for it. It was real kind of good to take the trouble. I suppose you had to go and ask for those invitations?”
“I asked, of course, but my aunt was delighted to give them. It will be quite worth going to, I think—good music, and something of a function! You would enjoy seeing the people. I hope you are not going to say that you can’t come!”
“What makes you think that, I wonder? Don’t I look smart enough? I’m sorry you don’t approve of my costume!” She sat up straight in her seat; a smart little hat perched on the top of shaded locks; a neat little stock beneath the rolled-back collar of her coat; minute little shoes, with ridiculous points, appearing beneath the hem of her skirt. Guest looked her over deliberately, his dark face softening into a very charming smile.
“I do! Very much indeed!”
“Maybe it’s a trifle homely, but it’s best to strike a balance. Mrs Moffatt’s apt to be a bit gaudy on these occasions.”
“It is very good of her to take so much trouble. Is—er—is she nearly ready, do you know?”
Cornelia had been narrowly on the watch for the flicker of dismay on Guest’s face; it came surely enough, but was suppressed by such a gallant effort that, to use her own vernacular, she “weakened” at the sight. The impish light died out of her eyes, and she said frankly—
“I guess I’ve been jollying all the time! Mrs Moffatt’s gone with her husband to visit a friend who lives quite a good way out, and she won’t be back before seven. I didn’t tell her of your invitation, as her plans were made, so it wasn’t worth while. I’m ‘alone in London’ for the afternoon. Sounds kinder pathetic, don’t it; but I’m enjoying it very well.”
“Then—er—am I to have the pleasure of taking you alone?”
Cornelia threw him a glance of tragic reproach.