The two advanced toward the spreading marquee which appeared to be the center of the mild social maelstrom. A greater ebullition perceptibly marked the spot. The conflict of voices arose more audibly. Many were constantly drawn inward, while by some counter-current others were, frequently cast outward to continue in drifting circles until again brought back to the gently agitated center. On the very edge of this vortex—the heart of which was the long table beneath the tent—sat a goodly sized lady. Her appearance might have been offered by a necromancer as the proof of a successfully accomplished trick, for the small camp stool on which she rested was so thoroughly concealed from sight that she might have been considered to rest upon air. Catching sight of Miriam, she beckoned to her with a vigor that threatened disruption of her gloves.
“Where have you been?” she cried, as Miriam and her friend approached. “I have been waiting for you. So many have been asking for you. I expected you to be here.”
“My dear Mrs. Gunnison,” cooed the girl, “you must forgive me. Absolutely, I could not help myself. I was all ready on time—but I have been admiring again your wonderful house. And I have been wondering at the perfect way in which it is kept up—the faultless manner in which everything is managed. I can only think of Lord Wantham’s place. Though, of course, there is not the brilliancy there——”
“I like to have things nice about me,” said Mrs. Gunnison, complacently. “Sit down here, my dear. I want to have you near me. And you, too, Mrs. Brough.”
“I may be a little to blame for keeping Miriam,” said the elder woman. “I have been so much interested in what she was saying.”
“Every one is,” responded Mrs. Gunnison, warmly. “Miriam is so popular—quite celebrated, for it. Indeed, there are numbers of people here who want to meet her. One young man in particular—Mr. Leeds——”
“Did he say he wished to know me?” the girl asked, quickly.
“Well, no,” admitted Mrs. Gunnison, “But then I want you to know each other. I’m quite bent on it. Nothing could be better. I’d like to see it come out the way I’d have it. You know how rich he is. And they say he is going to be somebody. Mr. Leeds! Mr. Leeds!”
A tall young man looked and advanced. While his gait did not indicate reluctance, there was nothing that seemed to reveal eagerness. He came forward deliberately and stopped before the party.
“I don’t think, Mr. Leeds, that you know Miss Whiting,” Mrs. Gunnison announced. “A dear friend of mine—and a dear. Mrs. Brough and you are old friends. You see her so often that I feel that I can take her away. Come, I want to show you something.”