They entered the dining-room as she said this, and during the slight commotion occasioned by placing every one with due regard to the varied requirements which make the position of a hostess so difficult, Mary could only recall with shame and wonder her satirical description of Henry Halford.
The silence that generally pervades the company at the commencement of dinner enabled Mary to recover herself and look round for the home faces.
Her mother, who had been taken into dinner by Mr. Drummond, was seated nearly opposite to her at his right hand. At the moment of this discovery she observed her bow to some one on Mary's side of the table. Her surprise at this caused her to lean forward slightly. What friend of her mother's could be dining with Mr. Drummond?
A gentleman with white hair, and a pale, handsome face, was returning the recognition. Mary was fairly puzzled, but she had conquered the confusion caused by Mr. Henry Halford's unexpected appearance, and when the conversation became general she could talk to her companion with ease and intelligence.
Mary could hear her father's voice, but she could not see him, as he sat at the same side of the table as herself by Mrs. Drummond.
Presently Henry Halford spoke.
"Are you acquainted with that gentleman at the head of the table on Mrs. Drummond's left hand?" he asked, under cover of many voices.
Mary shook her head. She had observed that he and her father were already in earnest conversation across the table, but he was a total stranger to her.
"No, I am not," she replied; "all here are strangers to me, excepting Mr. and Mrs. Drummond and my own parents."
"Then you do not know my father, to whom your mamma bowed just now. I saw you lean forward to discover who had been so honoured by Mrs. Armstrong's notice."