“Ah, my brother,” said Ethel, as she looked archly at him, “are you going to call on the major or the major’s daughter? Come now, confess.”
Hugh reddened noticeably, but insisted that it was the major, and soon after took his leave. On arriving at Major Buell Hampton’s, Hugh was received into the library by Marie herself.
“You never were more welcome,” said Marie, extending a plump, white hand, which Hugh pressed, perhaps, a little harder and held a little longer than the occasion seemed to warrant.
“Thank you,” said he, bowing, and blushing like a schoolboy, “and I never was more delighted to see you; and permit me to say that you are looking extremely well.”
Her eyes rested inquiringly on his face for a moment. The rays from the chandelier reflected a fascinating glow from her wealth of bronzed hair, and Hugh thought that she had never before looked so bewitchingly irresistible.
“You have come to see papa,” said Marie, half inquiringly.
“No, I came expressly to see you.”
He doubtless had forgotten, or else was indifferent to the denial that he had made at the dinner-table.
“Indeed, I am honored,” replied Marie, smiling, while her cheeks flushed at Hugh’s words. “I was about to send for you, and had quite made up my mind to do so. Your coming, therefore, is quite fortunate.”
“Yours to command,” said Hugh, gallantly; “in what way may I serve you?”