Cynthia took the hand, but did not rise, somewhat to Mr. Sutton's annoyance. A certain respect was due to a member of Congress and the Rajah of Clovelly.
“How do you do, Mr. Sutton?” said Cynthia, very coolly.
“I like her,” remarked Mrs. Duncan to Mr. Worthington.
“This is a splendid trip for you, eh, Cynthia?” Mr. Sutton persisted, with a praiseworthy determination to be pleasant.
“It has turned out to be so, Mr. Sutton,” replied Cynthia. This was not precisely the answer Mr. Sutton expected, and to tell the truth, he didn't know quite what to make of it.
“A great treat to see Washington and New York, isn't it?” said Mr. Sutton, kindly, “a great treat for a Coniston girl. I suppose you came through New York and saw the sights?”
“Is there another way to get to Washington?” asked Cynthia.
Mrs. Duncan nudged Mr. Worthington and drew a little nearer, while Mr. Sutton began to wish he had not been lured into the conversation. Cynthia had been very polite, but there was something in the quiet manner in which the girl's eyes were fixed upon him that made him vaguely uneasy. He could not back out with dignity, and he felt himself on the verge of becoming voluble. Mr. Sutton prided himself on never being voluble.
“Why, no,” he answered, “we have to go to New York to get anywhere in these days.” There was a slight pause. “Uncle Jethro taking you and Mr. Prescott on a little pleasure trip?” He had not meant to mention Jethro's name, but he found himself, to his surprise, a little at a loss for a subject.
“Well, partly a pleasure trip. It's always a pleasure for Uncle Jethro to do things for others,” said Cynthia, quietly, “although people do not always appreciate what he does for them.”