Gracie was in a merry mood. She understood enough of the doctor's busy life to feel sure that this sudden resolve to be entertained was quite out of his ordinary line, and that of itself served to mark the hour as exceptional.
“He feels the need of a little every-day fun,” she told herself, “and I'll help him to have it if I can. Poor man! it must be doleful to go among sick and dying people all the time.”
They were late at the hall; the concert was well under way; but there were plenty of vacant seats. Dr. Everett swept his eye over the room; then indicated to the usher just which seat he would have. It was one which commanded a view of the young man and woman who seemed to have such a mysterious influence over his plans.
He was relieved to find quite early in the entertainment that it really was unique, and, in its way, well worth hearing. Had the surroundings been agreeable he could easily have given himself up to enjoyment. However, they had been seated but a few moments, when he saw by Gracie's startled eyes that she had seen and recognized at least one of the couple at their left. Professor Ellis, in his usual faultless attire, lounged gracefully on the seat in such a manner that his side-face was distinct; he rested a well-shaped arm on the back of the seat next him, and his delicately gloved hand almost, if not quite, touched the shoulder of his companion.
Both he and the lady at his side gave extremely little attention to the entertainment in progress. Apparently they had come thither for purposes of conversation. They kept up a continuous murmur of talk, interspersed at intervals with rippling laughter, and really seemed so entirely absorbed in each other as to have at times forgotten that the hall was public, and that the attention of many was being turned toward them. The girl was pretty, extremely so, with an entirely different style of beauty from Gracie Dennis; and a certain indescribable something in her face and manner would have told even the most casual observer that she moved in a different circle. It was not her dress, unless that was a little too pronounced for the place and hour; but quite young ladies in good society sometimes make a similar mistake.
Neither was her manner objectionable to the degree that you could have pointed to any one thing as offensive; yet you would have been sure, had you watched her, that she was without the pale of what we call society.
Gracie Dennis watched her with a kind of fascination;—becoming at last so absorbed with the watching, and the apparently troubled thoughts which grew out of it, that she gave but slight attention to Dr. Everett's occasional remarks, nor seemed to observe that at last he lapsed into total silence.
Once, during the hour, the young woman glanced casually in their direction, and the careless nod, and free and easy smile with she acknowledged Dr. Everett's presence, drew a startled glance from Gracie to rest on him for a moment.
“Now I wish I had my horses,” the doctor said, as at last they made their way down the aisle. “I have a mile's drive up town to take, and I think the exercise might be good for you.”
Gracie caught at the suggestion, and begged to be allowed to remain in the bookstore below while he went for the horses.