“I was on the point of suicide, thinking you had failed me,” she said. “As it is, Mr. and Mrs. Dana have just sent me word that they can’t come because Milly has croup.”
“My note said half after seven,” I stated boldly. When one is very late it is always best to put one’s hostess in the wrong, and a mistake more or less to Mrs. Baxter was immaterial.
“Oh, never!” she declared, so guiltily that I was really sorry for her. “Well, we can’t discuss it now. We were just going in without you, and we’ll go on, leaving you to find your partner by the process of elimination. I haven’t left you Hobson’s choice, however.”
I glanced round, and as the couples had gravitated together, I easily picked out the only single figure left, and went towards it. She was turned from me, standing by Ferdie Gallaudet and his partner, who had not yet moved.
“That back is too young and pretty for Aunt Ellen or Madge,” was my first thought. My second was a spoken one, and merely consisted of the trite, “I am to have the pleasure, Miss Cortelyou.”
She was saying something to the girl, and went on saying it, with her head over her shoulder, even as she rested her hand on my arm and let me lead her away. And just as I was going to look at her, I caught sight of Ferdie’s face, and fell to wondering what could ail him that he looked so queer. We had been close to the door, and before she had finished her remark, or I had ceased from wondering, we were through it and in the half-gloom of the hall.
“I beg your pardon,” said she, turning to me, and speaking very sweetly. “It was a message, and I had only just begun when you came.”
“What a nuisance messages are!” was my remark. “What a nice voice you have!” was my thought. Then we entered the dining-room, and I glanced at my partner. It was Kate Cortelyou!
She looked at me at the same moment, and as our eyes met, an expression of consternation appeared on both our faces. At least, that’s what I felt in myself and saw in her. Horror succeeded as a next sensation and expression. Womanlike, she cast her eyes appealingly towards her hostess, and, manlike, I took a step towards the hall door. In another second I think I should have bolted, but just then Ferdie Gallaudet said, “Here’s your seat, Jack,” with a grin like a Cheshire cat on his face. I looked at Kate and she looked at me. Then we both looked at the chairs. Mechanically I stepped to them and pulled out that on the right of mine. Kate’s eyelashes fluttered for a moment, as if she were hesitating; then she slipped into the seat, and the next moment I was sitting beside her. But enchantingly pretty as I thought her (and I was either too fair-minded or she was too beautiful for me not to acknowledge it, however much I might dislike to do so), I could only wish I had broken my leg on my way to the house.
I turned to my left to see if any escape were possible, but my neighbour on that side was that horrible perpetual motion of a Mrs. Marvin, and, besides, she was very properly occupied with her partner. I peered furtively behind Kate to see if she could escape me, for anything was better than the alternative. Next her were two empty seats. Mrs. Baxter’s capacity for social blundering had done its worst.