“It is already at the door, Excellency.”
The Ambassador tossed his napkin on the table, pushed back his chair, and rose. “My hat and coat,” he directed, walking into the hall.
In a few minutes he stepped out into the vestibule and filled his lungs with the delicious breeze that fanned his cheeks. No trace of the heavy storm of the night before was in the air. The sky was blue, and the May sunshine lit up the budding trees and shrubs. The touch of spring and new-born life was everywhere. The Ambassador snapped off a spray of honeysuckle which grew along the fence protecting his parking from his neighbor’s, and tucked the spray in his buttonhole as he entered the waiting motor. “Drive to the club,” he directed briefly, as the car moved off.
[CHAPTER IV]
THE BROKEN APPOINTMENT
ELEANOR THORNTON turned in bed and stretched herself luxuriously. It was good to be young and to be sleepy. For a few seconds she dozed off again; then gradually awoke, and, too comfortable to move, let her thoughts wander where they would. In her mind’s eye she reviewed the events of the past months, and, despite herself, her lips parted in a happy smile. She had come to Washington in November to visit her friend, Cynthia Carew, and, delighted with the reception accorded her, had invited her cousin, Mrs. Gilbert Truxton, to chaperon her, and, on her acceptance, had rented a small furnished residence near Dupont Circle for the winter.
Mrs. Winthrop and Cynthia Carew, whom she had known at boarding school, took her everywhere with them, and her cousin, Mrs. Truxton, belonging as she did to an old aristocratic family of the District, procured her entrée to the exclusive homes of the “cave-dwellers,” as the residential circle was sometimes called.
Born also with the gifts of charm and tact, Eleanor’s wild rose beauty had made an instant impression, and she was invited everywhere. The butler’s tray was filled with visiting cards, which many newcomers, anxious for social honors, longed to have left at their doors.
Eleanor was one of the older girls at Dobbs Ferry during Cynthia’s first year at that boarding school. They had taken an immense liking to each other, which later blossomed into an intimate friendship. After her graduation she and Cynthia had kept up their correspondence without a break, and, true to her promise, given years before, she had left Berlin and journeyed to Washington to be present at Cynthia’s début.