I saw Mr. Bates
there too. And lots of other elderly gentlemen. I wish _you_ had been
there. Several of them made themselves prominent enough--no younger than
you, no richer, no more deserving of notice. Poppy, you must get out that
coat some time and brush it up, and go somewhere with _me_."
Marshall thrust a finger under the edge of the newspaper. "I don't know,
Jennie. There are lots of other things to think about."
Rosy came home at four. Mrs. Rhodes dropped her on her own way southward.
Bertie Patterson nodded sleepily in one corner of the carriage. She was
unused to late hours, and had been ready to go long before. But Rosy made
it plain to all involved that she regarded herself as the first to be
considered; she did not design leaving a minute sooner or a minute later
than her own good pleasure should will. Her card was filled to the last
line, and she danced it out--with William Bates, with Arthur Paston, and
with a score of other young men for whose names the present pages have no
need.
In the course of a week Arthur Paston called. Truesdale, who happened to
be at home, found himself regarding Paston's presence with something the
reverse of complacency, and his bearing with something that distinctly
approached disapproval. He recalled to mind many of the diversions in
which they had participated together, and he felt offended that Paston
should bring here the same jaunty, familiar, off-hand ways that he had
displayed in other scenes but slightly approved by Propriety.
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