Only one paltry three minutes' talk with Elise did he win for all his journeying. He had stood by her carriage that afternoon as she waited for Lola DeVale in front of Vantine's, and they had talked in the unaffected manner of the first days of their acquaintance until Lola came out and invited him to join them on an evening at the end of the week at an informal gathering of young people at her home in Washington. He had accepted with what he afterward thought was childish and compromising eagerness.
"I like that Mr. Rutledge so much. I invited him for you, Elise," Lola said as they drove homeward.
"Why for me?" asked Elise.
"Perhaps I should say because of you. Can't you see the reason in his eyes every time he looks at you? I can."
"You are mistaken there, my dear. I happen to know that Mr. Rutledge loves, or once loved, a young woman who has greatly disappointed him."
"How?"
"He has learned that her family—and perhaps she—is impossible."
"How did you know of his love for the girl?"
"He told me himself," Elise answered with a nonchalant air that proved her an actress of the finest art.
"He did! You were playing with fire, Elise. The sympathetic 'other girl' is always in a dangerous role. Did he tell you of his disappointment also?"