She saw him coming
toward her, and nodded to him pleasantly, in just the fashion in which she
was bowing to half a dozen others, and at that a pang of hot pain went
through him like an arrow--an arrow poisoned with cordial, casual
friendliness.
She extended her hand to him and gave him a smile that chilled him--it,
was so conventionally courteous and poised so nicely in the manner of
society. He went hot and cold fast enough then, for not less pleasantly in
that manner did she exclaim: "I am very glad to see you, Mr. Harkless, so
extremely glad! And so delighted to find you looking strong again! Do tell
me about all our friends in Plattville. I should like to have a little
chat with you some time. So good of you to find me in this melee."
And with that she turned from the poor fellow to Meredith. "How do you do.
Cousin Tom? I've saved the next dance for you." Then she distributed words
here and there and everywhere, amongst the circle about her--pretty
Marquise with a vengeance! "No, Mr. Swift, I shall not make a card; you
must come at the beginning of a dance if you want one. I cannot promise
the next; it is quite impossible. No, I did not go as far north as
Mackinac. How do you do, Mr. Burlingame?--Yes, quite an age;--no, not the
next, I am afraid; nor the next;--I'm not keeping a card. Good evening,
Mr.
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