The Gentleman from Indiana - Page 155/212

"Thank you, Tom, you're so good to think of it, but----"

"But what?"

"Would you mind going alone? I find it very pleasant sitting on your

veranda, or I'll get a book."

"Very well, if you don't want to go, I don't. I haven't had a dance for

three months and I'm still addicted to it. But of course----"

"I think I'd like to go." Harkless acquiesced at once, with a cheerful

voice and a lifeless eye, and the good Tom felt unaccountably mean in

persisting.

They drove out into the country through mists like lakes, and found

themselves part of a procession of twinkling carriage-lights, and cigar

sparks shining above open vehicles, winding along the levels like a canoe

fete on the water. In the entrance hall of the club-house they encountered

Miss Hinsdale, very handsome, large, and dark, elaborately beaming and

bending toward them warmly.

"Who do you think is here?" she said.

"Gomez?" ventured Meredith.

"Helen Sherwood!" she cried. "Go and present Mr. Harkless before Brainard

Macauley takes her away to some corner."