"Do, by all means; come and lunch with me. Mr. Alexander, can you spare the time to join us?" John inquired, turning to the gentleman.
"Certainly; and it will give me great pleasure to do so," he cordially responded.
"Then shall we say one o'clock for the lunch?—if that will be convenient for the ladies," and John Hungerford bent an anxious look upon Helen as he concluded.
Helen had remained quietly in the background during the foregoing interview, having merely nodded a smiling welcome to Mr. Alexander as he entered. She had been glad of the little respite to recover from the excitement occasioned by John's unlooked-for coming, and also by his impassioned appeal to her just preceding Dorothy's entrance.
Her father's invitation to lunch with him brought Dorothy to herself with a sudden inward shock.
"Mamma, have you any engagement for to-morrow?" she inquired, turning with an appealing look to her.
"Yes, dear; I go to Yonkers for Mrs. Forsyth's reception."
"Then let it be Wednesday, if that will suit you better," John quickly interposed.
"Wednesday I am booked for a concert, and Thursday for a house party at Tuxedo. But pray do not let my plans interfere with yours; and, John, I will see the pictures later," Helen concluded, in a friendly tone, as she arose, came forward, and joined the group. But intuitively the man knew, with a sinking heart, that he would not see her again, except, perhaps, as they might meet casually at the art club or some social function.
There was a suggestion of finality in her calm, self-possessed bearing, and even in her friendly tone, as she pleaded her engagements and promised to view his pictures later, which told him that his most cherished mission in returning to America had failed.