“Pardon me, Miss Laurence, nothing but—but imperative business—”
“Pray do not exhaust your invention, sir, for excuses.”
Gadsby’s face crimsoned.
“Let me hope nothing serious prevented your accompanying the party, Miss Laurence,” he at length said.
“To be more honest than you, I had no inclination to go, and therefore did not.”
“But last evening—”
“O, last evening I arranged the excursion merely for my friends, not feeling, of course, obliged to go with them,” was the answer.
“Then I certainly cannot regret so much the cause which prevented my joining them, since the only attraction would have been wanting.”
This implied compliment was noticed only by a haughty bow.
“Cold, unyielding beauty!” thought Gadsby, carelessly turning over the leaves of an annual.