As he turned to lead the way to Vivien, she looked up at Mr. Rosevelt and smiled archly.
He understood her, and gently patted the hand on his arm while he nodded his head, and said, dryly:
“He’ll do, my young lady, never fear.”
“Miss Sherbrooke, allow me to make you acquainted with Miss Gladstone, a friend from beyond the sea; also Mr. Rosevelt. Miss Gladstone, Mr. Rosevelt—Miss Sherbrooke.”
Ralph Meredith watched Star closely while he introduced and she exchanged greetings with Archibald Sherbrooke’s sister; and although she might have appeared self-possessed enough to the casual observer, he noticed the quick catching of her breath as she heard the familiar name, and remarked the flush which leaped into her hitherto pale cheeks, and which, although pain had caused it, enhanced her loveliness tenfold.
“It is Archie’s sister,” Star said to herself, as their two white-gloved hands met, and a thrill of keenest pain shot through every nerve.
“How lovely she is!” she added. “Her eyes are like his in their expression, although not in color. Oh! I should have loved her, I know; and how rashly I have thrown all my happiness away!”
It needed all the power of her will to sustain her as she stood there beside Miss Sherbrooke, apparently so calm, and chatted with her for the next fifteen minutes; and Vivien never mistrusted the wild emotions which were surging in the heart of her new acquaintance, with whom she was exceedingly pleased.
“How perfectly charming she is!” she thought, as for a moment Star turned to speak to Ralph, and she studied her face more closely.
Then she started violently.