“Anywhere,” he growled, fiercely, “to get out of this damnable hypocrisy! Pardon me, Aunt Murray, I can't help it, it IS damnable, and a whole lot of them are in it!”
Then Mrs. Murray came, and laying her hand on his arm, said: “Don't go, Harry; don't leave me; I want some one; come upstairs.”
Harry stood looking at the sweet face, trying to smile so bravely in spite of the tremulous lips.
“You are a dear, brave little woman,” he said, hanging up his hat, “and I'll be hanged if I don't stay by you. Come along upstairs.” He stooped, and lifting her in his arms in spite of her laughing protests, carried her upstairs to her room. When they came down to the party they both looked braver and stronger.
The party was a great success. The appointments were perfect; the music the best that could be had, and Maimie more beautiful than ever. In some mysterious way, known only to Aunt Frank, the rumor of Maimie's approaching engagement got about among the guests and produced an undertone of excitement to the evenings gayety. Maimie was too excited to be quite natural, but she had never appeared more brilliant and happy, and surely she had every cause. She had achieved a dizzy summit of social success that made her at once the subject of her friends' congratulations and her rivals' secret envy, and which was the more delightful it would be hard to say. Truly, she was a fortunate girl, but still the night was long, and she was tired of it all before it was over. The room seemed empty, and often her heart gave a leap as her eyes fell upon some form that appeared more handsome and striking than others near, but only to sink again in disappointment when a second glance told her that it was only some ordinary man. Kate, too, kept aloof in a very unpleasant way, and Harry, devoting himself to Kate, had not done his duty. But in spite of everything the party had been a great success, and when it was over Maimie went straight to bed to sleep. She knew that Ranald would be awaiting the answer to his note, but she could not bring herself to face what she knew would be an ordeal that might murder sleep for her, and sleep she must have, for she must be her best to-morrow. It would have been better for all involved had she written her answer that night; otherwise Ranald would not have been standing at her door in the early afternoon asking to see her. It was Aunt Frances who came down to the drawing-room. As Ranald stood up and bowed, she adjusted her pince-nez upon her aristocratic nose, and viewed him.
“You are wishing to see Miss St. Clair,” she said, in her very chilliest tone.
“I asked to see Maimie,” said Ranald, looking at her with cool, steady eyes.
“I must say, Mr. Macdonald, that after your conduct to my brother yesterday, I am surprised you should have the assurance to enter his house.”
“I would prefer not discussing office matters with you,” said Ranald, politely, and with a suspicion of a smile. “I have come to see Maimie.”
“That, I am glad to say, is impossible, for she is at present out with Captain De Lacy who has just arrived from the East to—see—to—in short, on a very special errand.”