John Hubbard’s lips curled in an aggravating sneer, showing that he thoroughly appreciated the situation, and this did not tend to make Gerald’s mortification any the easier to bear.
But Allison came bravely to the rescue, and her blue eyes flashed angry defiance upon both gentlemen, while she tossed back her golden head with an independent air that spoke volumes.
“But, Gerald,” she said eagerly, as she moved nearer to him, “the boat is not to be used at present, there is to be an archery contest first, and the guests are already getting ready to dance under the pavilion. Here is my card. I want you to put your name down for the waltz-galop, and the military schottische; yes, and the minuet, too—you always do them so nicely with me. That’s it. Now, come, I want to introduce you to Annie, Cousin Charlie Manning’s wife, who is here to matronize the affair, and she has just the dearest little girl you ever saw—one of those Dresden china children that sets everybody wild. Good-by,” she added carelessly, and nodding over her shoulder at the two gentlemen as she slipped her hand within Gerald’s arm to lead him away. “I hope you will enjoy looking on at the fun.”
And with that she hurried her companion forward to a tall, graceful lady, who stood under a neighboring tree, and to whom she introduced him with as much ceremony as if he had been the son of a millionaire.
“Humph! your daughter appears to be exceedingly fond of your office boy, and vice versa,” John Hubbard observed, with an ugly frown, as he glowered after the youthful pair; “it might be wise for you to nip such a tendency in the bud.”
“Pooh! it is only a boy-and-girl fancy that doesn’t amount to anything,” the banker responded lightly, but with an uneasy gleam in his eyes.
“These boy-and-girl fancies sometimes prove to be the most lasting and dangerous,” his companion retorted, with a sullen air, as he turned to a rustic seat, where he could command a view of all that was occurring upon the lawn.
Meantime Allison was trying to obliterate the remembrance of the wound which her lover had received from her father.
“Oh, Gerald! I was so disappointed when your note came,” she exclaimed, with a heartiness which betrayed her sincerity, “but it was just lovely of you to send these,” with a shy glance at the bouquet pinned to her corsage, “and, you see, since I thought I could not have you here, I tried to console myself by wearing your flowers.”
“You honor me, Allison,” said the young man, his tones thrilling with emotion.