How, then, was he disappointed in the apparition Mrs. Meredith
presented as "my niece," the modest, self-possessed young girl, whose
cheeks grew not a whit redder, and whose pulse did not quicken at the
sight of him, though a gleam of something like curiosity shone in the
brown eyes which scanned him so quietly. She was thinking of Lucy, and
her injunction "not to speak to the hateful if she saw him;" but she
did speak to him, and Mrs. Meredith fanned herself complacently as she
saw how fast they became acquainted.
"You do not dance," Mr. Hastings said, as she declined an invitation
from Ned Peters, whom she had met at Saratoga. "I am glad, for now you
will, perhaps, walk with me outside upon the piazza. You won't take
cold, I think," and he glanced thoughtfully at the white neck and
shoulders gleaming beneath the gauzy muslin.
Mrs. Meredith was in rhapsodies and sat a full hour with the tiresome
dowagers around her, while up and down the broad piazza Thornton
Hastings walked with Anna, talking to her as he seldom talked to
women, and feeling greatly surprised to find that what he said was
fully appreciated and understood. That he was pleased with her he
could not deny himself, as he sat alone in his room that night,
feeling more and more how keenly Arthur Leighton must have felt at her
refusal.
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