ke the worshipful
inception of a new courtship.
"I shall be invisible," said she, "all day--so you must wait. You
haven't any time to bother with me, anyhow. Haven't you your platform
to complete? A public man must attend to public matters first, and,
anyhow, I shall be denied to all my friends, and you must wait with the
rest!"
"It is hard to wait," he answered, "when you are so near."
"I shall try to make amends," said she, "by endeavoring to be as
beautiful as--as you used to describe me--at the reception. Good
night! Good night!"
He once more violated the Brassfield traditions; he simply raised her
hand to his lips and kissed it. To do more, he felt, would spoil all.
She went in, more nearly happy than at any time since his return, but
sorely puzzled. "I shall never understand him," she thought.
Mrs. Major Pumphrey, standing in line with Miss Scarlett and Mrs.
Pumphrey's sister from Wisconsin; a procession of people coming in by
twos and threes, and steered by attendants into rooms for doffing
wraps; a chain of de-wrapped human beings circulating past the
receiving line and listening to Mrs. Pumphrey's assurances that she was
delighted to welcome them that she might have the pleasure of
introducing them to her sister--and of course they knew Miss Scarlett;
an Italian harper who played ceaselessly among palms; a punch-bowl
presided over by Flossie Smith and Mrs. Alvord; a melange of black
coats, pretty frocks and white arms and shoulders; a glare of lights; a
hum like a hive's--in short, a reception. Such was the function to
which Florian made his way, waiting until he could arrive concomitantly
with the Waldron carriage so that he might hand the ladies therefrom,
and receive from his divinity a little, uncertain pressure of the hand.
Then came his respects to Mrs. Pumphrey. Amidon started as he
recognized in the bright-haired second person in line his fairy of the
balustrade.
"So delighted to see you here, Mr. Brassfield!" said Mrs. Pumphrey.
"It gives me the opportunity of presenting you to--why, Daisy, where's
your auntie gone? She was here just now!"
"She was called away for a few moments," said Miss Scarlett. "Yes, I
believe Mr. Brassfield and I have met"--this with an icy bow--"and
please, Mr. Cox, don't go, until I have told you the end of the story!"
And she went on vivaciously chatting to Billy Cox, who had moored
himself as close to her as the tide of guests sweeping by her would
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