Watching her, quite oblivious to his surroundings, the servant at his elbow was obliged to cough discreetly half a dozen times and repeat "Beg pardon, sir," before he turned to notice the silver salver extended.
"Oh—thank you," he said, picking up an envelope directed, "Mr. Seabury," and opening it. Then a trifle surprised but smiling, he turned to find the girl whose name was written on the card. She was speaking to the hostess and the amiable man who had first greeted him. And this is what he didn't hear as he watched her, waiting grimly for a chance at her:
"Cecil! Who is that very young man?"
"Betty, how should I know——"
"Look here, Cis," from the amiable gentleman; "this is some of your deviltry——"
"Oh, thank you, Jim!"
"Yes, it is. Who is he and where did you rope him?"
"Jim!"
"Cecil! What nonsense is this?" demanded her hostess and elder sister. "How did he get here and who is he?"
"I did not bring him, Betty. He simply came?"