“No, indeed; you are very hard upon yourself, Miss Huntress. Believe me I shall consider the incident a most fortunate circumstance if I may be allowed to consider it as a formal introduction to you, and thus secure the pleasure of your acquaintance.”
He was so gentlemanly and affable, so refined in his language and manner, that Gladys thought him very agreeable, and, since he claimed to know Geoffrey, she thought there could be no possible harm in receiving him as an acquaintance.
Still she was not quite sure that it would be proper, and this made her a little guarded in her reply.
“I am always glad to meet any of Geoffrey’s friends,” she said, with one of her charming smiles; but if she could have known how he cringed under her words, and what venomous hatred was rankling in his heart against him who was her ideal of all manly excellence, she would have fled from him in dismay.
But nothing of this nor of the miserable plot which was rapidly taking form in his mind appeared on the surface, while before he could frame a suitable reply Gladys turned quickly and drew Addie Loring to her side, saying:
“Allow me to introduce my friend—Miss Loring, Mr. Mapleson.”
He lifted his hat in acknowledgment of the presentation while he was still inwardly chafing over that last guarded speech of hers.
“She wouldn’t look at me if she knew the truth,” he thought, “and that clever cousin will be letting it all out when he learns that we have met. Never mind. I’ll make hay while the sun shines, and do my best to ingratiate myself with her before he finds it out; she’s dusedly pretty and it would suit me finely if I could cut him out.”
He detained the young ladies for a few moments longer—for he had the power of making himself very agreeable when he chose—then Addie Loring pulled forth a little gem of a watch and remarked, with a look of surprise:
“Gladys, dear, we promised mamma to be at home by four, and it is nearly three now, while we have flowers yet to get for Mrs. Brevort’s reception.”