The maid announced: “Mr. Estridge!”
CHAPTER VIII
Young Shotwell, still too incredulous to be either hurt or angry, stood watching Palla welcoming her guests, who arrived within a few minutes of each other.
First came Estridge,––handsome, athletic, standing over six feet, and already possessed of that winning and reassuring manner which means success for a physician.
“It’s nice of you to ask me, Palla,” he said. “And is Miss Westgard really coming to-night?”
“But here she is now!” exclaimed Palla, as the maid announced her. “––Ilse! You astonishing girl! How long have you been in New York?”
And Shotwell beheld the six-foot goddess for the first time––gazed with pleasurable awe upon this young super-creature with the sea-blue eyes and golden hair and a skin of roses and cream.
“Fancy, Palla!” she said, “I came immediately back from Stockholm, but you had sailed on the Elsinore, and I was obliged to wait!––Oh!––” catching sight of Estridge as he advanced––“I am so very happy to see you again!”––giving him her big, exquisitely sculptured hand. “Except for Mr. Brisson, we are quite complete in our little company of death!” She laughed her healthy, undisturbed defiance of that human enemy as she named him, gazed rapturously at Palla, acknowledged Shotwell’s presentation in her hearty, engaging way, then turned laughingly to Estridge: