He shrank from pushing into
the front of the company, which was now rapidly filling the music-room,
and contented himself with lingering in the doorway, where several
gentlemen were stationed. The seats were all occupied; all, that is,
save one, towards which he saw Miss Chancellor and her companion direct
themselves, squeezing and edging past the people who were standing up
against the walls. This was quite in front, close to the little
platform; every one noticed Olive as she went, and Ransom heard a
gentleman near him say to another--"I guess she's one of the same kind."
He looked for Verena, but she was apparently keeping out of sight.
Suddenly he felt himself smartly tapped on the back, and, turning round,
perceived Mrs. Luna, who had been prodding him with her fan.

XXVII

"You won't speak to me in my own house--that I have almost grown used
to; but if you are going to pass me over in public I think you might
give me warning first." This was only her archness, and he knew what to
make of that now; she was dressed in yellow and looked very plump and
gay. He wondered at the unerring instinct by which she had discovered
his exposed quarter. The outer room was completely empty; she had come
in at the further door and found the field free for her operations. He
offered to find her a place where she could see and hear Miss Tarrant,
to get her a chair to stand on, even, if she wished to look over the
heads of the gentlemen in the doorway; a proposal which she greeted with
the inquiry--"Do you suppose I came here for the sake of that
chatterbox? haven't I told you what I think of her?"

"Well, you certainly did not come here for my sake," said Ransom,
anticipating this insinuation; "for you couldn't possibly have known I
was coming."

"I guessed it--a presentiment told me!" Mrs. Luna declared; and she
looked up at him with searching, accusing eyes. "I know what you have
come for," she cried in a moment. "You never mentioned to me that you
knew Mrs. Burrage!"

"I don't--I never had heard of her till she asked me."

"Then why in the world _did_ she ask you?"

Ransom had spoken a trifle rashly; it came over him, quickly, that there
were reasons why he had better not have said that. But almost as quickly
he covered up his mistake. "I suppose your sister was so good as to ask
for a card for me."

"My sister? My grandmother! I know how Olive loves you. Mr. Ransom, you
are very deep." She had drawn him well in