Editha was really delighted to see her friend. She had missed him sadly, and she was chatting away with him in the most social manner, asking all sorts of questions about Newport and her friends, when Mr. Dalton all at once came upon the scene.
He expressed no surprise at seeing Mr. Tressalia, but the frown upon his brow testified to his displeasure, although he politely inquired regarding his arrival.
“I came on with some old friends who were anxious to visit the place—Madam Sylvester and her brother,” he answered.
Mr. Dalton started violently, and flushed hotly at this information, and appeared all at once so nervous and strangely excited that Mr. Tressalia regarded him with surprise.
“Madam Sylvester!” exclaimed Editha, joyously, and not noticing her father’s agitation. “I am so glad. I liked her so much at Newport. I shall be glad to extend our acquaintance.”
“Your pleasure is reciprocated, I can assure you, for madam was equally delighted with you,” Paul returned, with his eyes still on Mr. Dalton.
He had withdrawn a trifle within the shadow of a tree, and stood with his head bent, looking down upon the ground, his face dark with anger, while he worked his hands in a nervous way and gnawed his under lip.
“What in thunder ails the man, to make him look and act so strangely?” the young man asked, within himself.
“Are madam and her brother here at the garden-party?” Editha asked.
“Yes; the fame of it reached us before we arrived, and you know the electric light is visible for several miles before we reach Saratoga; so, notwithstanding our weariness, we all thought we must come and take a look at the enchanted place.”