Hardy. Had he been dealing with Conward and Mrs.
Hardy alone he would have excused himself, but he had to think of
Irene. That is, he had to justify her by being correct in his manners.
And as he looked from mother to daughter he realized that Irene had not
inherited all her beauty from her father. In their dinner gowns Mrs.
Hardy was sedate and even beautiful, and her daughter ravishing. Dave
thought he had not before seen so much womanly charm in any figure.
"_Do_ join us," said Mrs. Hardy. It was evident to Mrs. Hardy that it
would be correct for her to support Mr. Conward's invitation.
"You are very kind," said Dave, as he seated himself. "I had not hoped
for this pleasure." And yet the pleasure was not unmixed. He felt
that Conward had out-played him. It was Conward who had done the
gracious thing. And Dave could not prevent Conward doing the gracious
thing without himself being ungracious.
He was aware of being under the close scrutiny of Mrs. Hardy. True,
Conward sought to monopolize her attention. He had an ingratiating way
with strangers; he struck a confidential note that quickly called forth
confidence in return, and Dave was chagrined to see that not only was
his partner creating the intended impression upon Mrs. Hardy, but his
sallies and witticisms were gradually winning response from Irene. And
the more he was annoyed at this turn of affairs the less was he able to
arrest it. As Conward's guest he could not quarrel, and his fear of
over-stepping the mark if he engaged in discussion induced a silence
which might easily have been mistaken for mental inanition.
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