“It has, indeed, been a very pleasant hour, Mr. Mapleson—if an hour has really slipped by since you came in—and I shall be happy to meet you again, although I remain only a very few days longer with Miss Loring,” she replied.
Mr. Mapleson’s face clouded at this.
“Surely your vacation is not nearly over yet?” he said.
“Oh, no; but I only promised Addie a week; there are but two, and papa and mamma will want me at home the other.”
“Allow me to ask where is your home, Miss Huntress?”
“In Brooklyn.”
“True; I had forgotten. I remember that Huntress told me he resided in Brooklyn,” Everet said, aware that the “City of Churches” was quite convenient to New York, and that he could run over there as easily as to come way up town to the Lorings.
“We are not going to give Gladys up until Saturday, Mr. Mapleson,” Miss Loring here interposed, “for Thursday evening we give a reception in her honor; the cards were issued several days ago. It is rather late to offer you one, but if you will accept it, we shall be glad to see you with our other guests.”
Everet Mapleson was only too glad to get it, even at that late date, and, with thanks, he took the envelope which Miss Loring proffered him, and expressed the pleasure it would afford him to accept her invitation.
He then bowed himself out, more than ever in love with beautiful Gladys Huntress, and more than ever determined to win her love in return.