“I’m afraid I’m not qualified. You see, poor Mrs. Schuyler was only trying to shield me. Since—since my illness,” he choked a little and then continued swiftly, “it has been very difficult for me to meet people, and so she was kind enough to bring me up here. I—I didn’t know she was receiving tonight.”
Ellen’s eyes softened. Her façile sympathy was touched by the haggard young face, the pitiful and manly attempt at explanation.
“I understand perfectly, and I’m sorry I blundered in upon you like the great cow in a China shop that I am. But now that I’m here, won’t you let me say that I hope you’ll soon be better, and giving us some more of your wonderful music. I’ve heard you so many times, and of course I couldn’t help recognizing you the minute I saw your face.”
Going to the door, she put her hand on the knob. “I guess I’ll be going now. Stay as long as you like, Anne. I’ll tell them you’re dead, or have acquired a sick headache from the Bacardi.”
Anne moved forward swiftly and joined her.
“Oh, no, don’t make things out quite so black as that. I’ll come with you. And we’ll see if we can’t get rid of them. It is almost two o’clock and they ought to be leaving any minute? Then, we can return and visit with Mr. Petrovskey again. How about it?”
“Great!” said Ellen. “I want to know just how you met ‘an’ everythin’,’ as Briggs says.”
Anne looked back at Alexis pleadingly.
“Will you wait for us? I’m sure we shan’t be long. Just make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you, I shall be all right.”