"Goodness! Is he really?" panted her daughter, surveying the Englishman with candid curiosity.
"Is he really!" Mrs. Gantry was profoundly shocked. "If you weren't out, I'd see that you had at least two more years in a finishing school."
"Horrors! that certainly would finish me. But you forget yourself, mamma. You keep his earlship waiting for his introduction."
The Englishman shot a humorous glance at Blake, and drew out his monocle. He screwed it into his eye and stared blandly at the irrepressible Miss Gantry, while her mother, with some effort, regained a degree of composure. She bowed in a most formal manner.
"The Right Honorable the Earl of Avondale: I present my daughter."
The earl dropped his monocle, raised his cap, and bowed with unaffected grace. Dolores nodded and caught his hand in her vigorous clasp.
"Glad to meet you," she said. "It's rare we meet a real live earl in
Chicago. Most of 'em are caught in New York, soon as they land."
"It's good of you to say it, Miss Gantry," he replied, tugging at the tip of his little mustache. "I've been over before, you know. Came in disguise. This time I was able to march through New York with colors flying, thanks to your mother and Miss Leslie."
Dolores sent her glance flashing after his, and saw Genevieve responding coldly to the effusive greeting of Ashton. The young man was edging towards the earl. But Genevieve turned to introduce him first to her companion.
"Mr. Blake, Mr. Brice-Ashton."