I came forward with no very great sensation of interest or curiosity, feeling, indeed, just a little bored at having to talk polite nothings to another stranger, when I was conscious of being rather sleepy and a little dazzled by the sudden light, after the pleasant darkness during the drive home. But no sooner had I caught a glimpse of the man who had risen from his seat on our entrance and was on the point of approaching me with outstretched hand in response to his mother’s introduction, than all my wits and perceptions awoke to their keenest. I could scarcely repress an exclamation of amazement, for there stood before me the unknown whom Moore and I, and indeed Isabel herself, in the first place, had dubbed with so many designations—“the mysterious stranger”—“the man of the pocket-book”—“our good Samaritan,” and so on!
And although Clarence Payne was in some respects more at a disadvantage than I, never having seen me except with a hat on, and, as far as I remember, a veil as well, it was instantly evident that he too recognised me!
“Miss—” he exclaimed, and his mother, thinking he had not caught my name, interrupted him before he had time to repeat it.
“Fitzmaurice,” she interpolated.
“Miss Fitzmaurice,” he resumed, “I am—” then stopped short.
We looked at each other, on both sides waiting for a cue, the young man evidently quite in the dark as to whether I would wish him to appear to recognise me or not, and I, for my part, feeling something of the same nature as regarded him. But we were both too naturally, I think I may say, ingenuous, too young perhaps, to act a part without distinct reason. We gazed at each other for less time by far than it has taken me to describe the little scene, then—and after all I think it was the best ending of it—we both burst out laughing, the half-nervousness which had so culminated melting into real amusement as we caught sight of Mrs Payne’s amazed face.
“My dearest Clarence!” she was beginning.
“What—what in the world—”—“is there to laugh at?” she was doubtless going to have continued, had her son not interrupted her, before even I had time to do so.
“We have met before!” he exclaimed, “though neither of us knew the other’s name;” whereupon Mrs Payne’s expression changed from amazement to perplexity.
“Met before?” she repeated. “How? Where? At some party perhaps?”