Stevens made a wry face. "I'll have to give up dancing or drinking, one
or the other," he said emphatically; "it isn't scientific. Wine should
be allowed to stand in the stomach just as it ought to stand in the
bottle. This idea of churning it up by dancing is all wrong. I'd rather
dance while I'm dancing and drink while I'm drinking; but every one else
wants to do both things at the same time. It's all wrong.--That Celestin
has a beastly bad taste this morning." He examined the bottle
critically. "I was afraid the maid had brought me Hunyadi by mistake."
"I was in at Marian's yesterday," Edith remarked. "Mr. Hamlen has
arrived, and she expects Philip and Billy Huntington at the house over
Easter."
"Has Hamlen been there yet? He's a melancholy sort,--about as cheerful
as a hearse. Feeling as I do this morning I think I'd rather like to see
him; but I hope to feel better soon."
"No; he hasn't been there yet. Marian tried to get him out for dinner,
but some other friends were to dine with her so he wouldn't come."
"He's a queer one,--but that reminds me: that Cosden man is in town."
"He is?" Edith exclaimed, arresting her coffee-cup on its way to her
lips and poising it in mid-air. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I couldn't until now; it was only yesterday I saw him. He was much more
civil than in Bermuda. Wanted to know about you and all that sort of
thing. He's going to telephone you before he goes back."
"Very kind of him, I'm sure," Edith sniffed. "Perhaps I'll be in and
perhaps I won't."
"Well that's your affair; you needn't see him on my account. But if you
were to ask me, I'd say he's not such a bad sort."
"I didn't ask you, Ricky," Edith said significantly, and Stevens, with
precedent to guide him, refrained from further discussion of the topic.
Yet in spite of the snap in her eyes when she commented on Cosden's
inquiry it so happened that she was in when he telephoned, and she was
also at home, arrayed in her most fetching afternoon gown, when he
called an hour later. Not that he would notice whether she wore gingham
or alpaca, she told herself, but she owed it to her self-respect to
appear her best.
She had expected to see Cosden in his business suit with bulky contracts
and other papers bulging from his pockets, rushing in and out again like
a hurricane; but instead she beheld him entirely at his ease in cutaway
and silk hat, with immaculate grey spats over his patent-leather boots.
He carried himself with an air quite different from that she had become
familiar with in Bermuda, and the reception she had planned for
him--brief, matter-of-fact and bristling with satire--required a certain
modification.
"I wasn't looking for a social call," Edith said guardedly after a
non-committal greeting. "I thought perhaps you had some business matter
to discuss."
"Still unforgiving!" Cosden smiled. "What can I do to make you
forgetful?"
"Of what?" Edith asked with well-feigned surprise.
"Then suppose we assume that you have forgotten."
"Aren't you over here on business?"
"Yes; and pleasure, too. This is the pleasure."
Her mystification was genuine. Was this the self-assertive, vivified
piece of machinery she had known three months before? Cosden could but
see her surprise and it pleased him.
"I told you I should find out what was the matter with me. Have I
partially succeeded?"
"Yes," she acknowledged frankly; "what did it?"
"Huntington and--you."
"But you couldn't change like this in so short a time; no one could."
"Most of it is probably on the surface," he admitted cheerfully.
"Underneath is the same Cosden branded with the ear-marks of his
business. But I'm on my way, and if there's enough of a change to have
you notice it, then there's hope!"
"Have you seen the Thatchers?" Edith asked, not knowing just how to
answer him.
"I saw Mr. Thatcher yesterday. He asked me to dine with them to-night,
but I thought I'd wait until next time I'm over. He says Mrs. Thatcher
is planning to have our whole Bermuda party down at the shore in July.
You will be there, of course?"
"If it's in July, I shall be. Marian has invited me to spend the month
with her."
"Good! that was one of the things I called to find out."
"What are the others?"
"Whether you are forgiving and--forgetful."
Edith laughed at the serious way he asked the question.
"Are you laughing at me or with me?" he demanded half in earnest.
"Why, I don't know what to make of you."
"Make whatever you like,--it's in your hands!"
"But I feel we ought to become acquainted all over again.
"So do I; that is another one of the things I wanted to find out.--Will
you dine with me to-night, and then go to the theater afterwards?"
"Why--" she hesitated.
"It's the best possible way to get acquainted over again," he insisted.
"I'm not sure that I want to," Edith retorted; "but I will admit that
you've excited my curiosity."
"That's something," Cosden replied good-naturedly. "Why isn't an evening
together the easiest way to satisfy it?"
"All right," Edith said with sudden decision. "I really must know more
about this."
"The veneer may wear off before the evening is over."
"That's what I'm thinking," she answered frankly. "I'm wondering how
deep it really goes."
* * * * *