And this is the time for the celebrities," said Porter, and wrote on
the corner of the supper card the name of a famous Russian countess at
the table next to them. Beyond was the Speaker of the House; the
British Ambassador with his fair company of ladies; the Spanish
Ambassador at a table of darker beauties.
Mary, listening to Porter's pleasant voice, was constrained to admit
that he could be charming. As for the freckles and "carrot-head," they
had been succeeded by a fine if somewhat florid complexion, and the
curled thickness of his brilliant crown gave to his head an almost
classic beauty.
As she studied him, his eyes met hers, and he surprised her by a quick
smile of understanding.
"Oh, Contrary Mary," he murmured, so that the rest could not hear,
"what do you think of me?"
She found herself blushing, "_Porter._"
"You were weighing me in the balance? Red head against my lovely
disposition?"
Before she could answer, he had turned back to Aunt Isabelle, leaving
Mary with her cheeks hot.
After supper, the young host insisted that Leila and the General should
go home in his limousine with Barry and Aunt Isabelle.
"Mary and I will follow in a taxi," he said in the face of their
protests.
"Young man," demanded the twinkling General, "if I accept, will you
look upon me in the light of an incumbrance or a benefactor?"
"A benefactor, sir," said Porter, promptly, and that settled it.
"And now," said Porter, as, having seen the rest of the party off, he
took his seat beside the slim figure in the green velvet wrap, "now I
am going to have it out with you."
"But--Porter!"
"I've a lot to say. And we are going to ride around the Speedway while
I say it."
"But--it's raining."
"All the better. It will be we two and the world away, Mary."
"And there isn't anything to say."
"Oh, yes, there is--_oodles_."
"And Aunt Isabelle will be worried."
He drew the rug up around her and settled back as placidly as if the
hands on the moon face of the clock on the post-office tower were not
pointing to midnight. "Aunt Isabelle has been told," he informed her,
"that you may be a bit late. I wrote it on the supper card, and she
read it--and smiled."
He waited in silence until they had left the avenue, and were on the
driveway back of the Treasury which leads toward the river.
"Porter, this is a wild thing to do."
"I'm in a wild mood--a mood that fits in with the rain and wind, Mary.
I'm i
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