The first few years of his life there had been uneasy ones, for he had to be constantly on the alert to avoid matrimony, so many were the enticements thrown out to land him. He was unquestionably the biggest fish in the pond, and the hooks had been baited for him repeatedly, but he had not bitten.
The first evening after Mrs. Malloy and Robert reached Valencia, Mr. Spencer entertained two of his nearest neighbors, a widow and her young niece, at dinner.
Mrs. Weston had been a pretty girl in her youth, and it was a hard habit for her to break from. She still affected baby blue, which had set off to advantage her pink-and-whiteness twenty years before, but which now exaggerated the faded lemon color into which that complexion had degenerated. In place of dimples, there were creases in her cheeks, but she clung to her original conception of them, and used them accordingly. Her hair, from being golden, had become dull and lifeless, but she still wore it in the jaunty frizzes which had once set off her doll-like face.
She was an easy victim for complexion agents, and her generous patronage had done much to hasten the decay of her delicate complexion. She was entirely satisfied with herself, but nevertheless she felt a pang of jealousy whenever she looked at her young niece, and was only moved out of her complacency and simplicity, to indulge in caustic remarks to her.
Robert Malloy felt himself shy and awkward in the presence of girls, for his life had been spent close to his mother, with books and study, and he was ignorant of their ways.
Before dinner was announced he found himself seated by the girl, Margaret Anthony, vaguely wondering what to say, and wishing he dared look at her to see what she really was like.
He ventured a remark about the weather, and looked at her as he did so. She answered in a monosyllable, but kept her eyes cast down. Following the direction of her eyes, he saw that she was twirling her thumbs.
In a flash he glanced at his own hands, and then he realized that he was being ridiculed.
He looked hastily at her again, and this time she met his eyes with an unmistakable gleam of laughter in hers. For a moment he was inclined to be angry, but changed his mind and laughed outright, a musical, boyish laugh, with which hers chimed.
The older folks looked over at them, and an expression of satisfaction appeared on Mr. Spencer’s face.