The thoughts suggested by Arthur Campbell's gracious offering took a firm and exclusive hold of my mind, from the moment I saw it, until I sat beside him in the Merivales' vast drawing-room.
He looked handsomer than ever that night, it seemed to me, as he came smiling towards me and asked leave to take the vacant chair beside me. Every one was busy talking and laughing, for the music had not yet begun and we felt quite secure in our remote corner to say and do as we pleased. It is so often quite easy to be alone in a crowd.
"I need not ask you how you are, Miss Hampden," Arthur Campbell began, sinking down carelessly into his seat, "your looks are perfect."
"Such unworthy adulation Dr. Campbell!" I exclaimed in mock indignation, "besides" I said, with some malice "I would like to know how many times you have paid this compliment before it reached me."
"This is very unfair, Miss Hampden" he retorted with a pleasant smile. "Upon my honor, I did not—well yes, to be candid, I said something like it to Miss Merivale, but she is the only one beside yourself."
"I knew it!" I interrupted triumphantly "and I daresay she is the only lady you have spoken to at all, since you came in, except myself."
He looked at me with his solemn blue eyes for a moment and then said in a half jesting, half earnest, tone:
"I wish I could make you jealous."
He did not turn away his eyes after this, but let them jest in calm scrutiny upon my half averted countenance. There was a power in his words that thrilled me for a second or so. I may have betrayed some agitation in my answer. I closed my fan and opened it again nervously before I replied:
"Have you heard that I am easily provoked to jealousy?"