“Well, you ought to see about enough of New York in that time. And I hereby extend you the freedom of the city with all its privileges. But I hope you will extend me one in return?”
At this moment her aunt bustled up to us. “Natalie, my dear, you must come and meet the Jordans. Such dear people and so unusual. Two of my best friends, you know.”
She turned to me, beaming. “You will excuse us, Mr. Clayton?”
Miss Van Cleef rose gracefully to her feet. In spite of a little momentary trick of shyness now and then, she was clearly a young lady with a good deal of natural poise. She turned to me for an instant, before following her aunt.
“And the boon you ask?” she inquired, laughing.
“Just to see something of you while you are here,” answered I gravely.
Again the lovely eyes met mine in surprise. I tried to make my glance express nothing more than a friendly interest, but it is possible that a little of my growing wonder and admiration showed for an instant.
“Natalie!” her aunt called her a little impatiently.
My companion colored adorably and dropped her eyes. “I—why, of course, if you—wish it,” she murmured.
An instant later she had joined her aunt. But I stood still, conscious of quickening pulses. And for an instant, before I was drawn into the general conversation about me, I forgot my mission there and the work I had set myself to do and became enmeshed in a day-dream, full of vague thoughts and fancies, leading I knew not whither.