Part 18

"Why don't you, and the rest who dislike her, snub her?"

"Snub her! You can't snub her--she never takes a snub to herself. If you were to hit her in the face, she would think it a mistake and meant for some one else."

"Then, why not do the next best thing--have fun with her?"

"We do--but even that grows monotonous, with such a mountain of Egotism--she will stay for the Bridge this evening, see if she doesn't--and never imagine she's not wanted." Then she laughed: "I think if she does I'll give her to you!"

"Very good!" said he. "I'd rather enjoy it. If she is any more cantankerous than some of the women at the Heights, she'll be an interesting study. Yes, I'll be glad to play a rubber with her."

"If you start, you'll play the entire evening with her--we don't change partners, here."

"And what will you do?" he asked.

"Look on--at the other table. She will have my place. I was going to play with you."

"Then the greater the sacrifice I'm making, the greater the credit I should receive."

"It depends--on how you acquit yourself," she said gayly. "There are the others, now--come along."

There were six of them. Miss Tilghman, Miss Lashiel and Miss Tayloe, Mr. Dangerfield, Mr. Leigh, and Mr. Byrd. They all had heard of Croyden's arrival, in Hampton, and greeted him as they would one of themselves. And it impressed him, as possibly nothing else could have done--for it was distinctly new to him, after the manners of chilliness and aloofness which were the ways of Northumberland.

"We are going to play Bridge, Miss Erskine, will you stay and join us?" asked Miss Carrington.

"I shall be charmed! charmed!" was the answer. "This is an ideal evening for Bridge, don't you think so, Mr. Croyden?"

"Yes, that's what we thought!" said Miss Tilghman, dryly.

"And who is to play with me, dear Davila?" Miss Erskine inquired.

"I'm going to put Mr. Croyden with you."

"How nice of you! But I warn you, Mr. Croyden, I am a very exacting partner. I may find fault with you, if you violate rules--just draw your attention to it, you know, so you will not let it occur again. I cannot abide blunders, Mr. Croyden--there is no excuse for them, except stupidity, and stupidity should put one out of the game."

"I'll try to do my very best," said Croyden humbly.

"I do not doubt that you will," she replied easily, her manner plainly implying further that she would soon see how much that "best" was.

As they went in to the drawing-room, where the tables were arranged, Miss Erskine leading, with a feeling of divine right and an appearance of a Teddy bear, Byrd leaned over to Croyden and said:

"She's the limit!"

"No!" said Leigh, "she's past the limit; she's the sublimated It!"

"Which is another way of saying, she's a superlative d---- fool!" Dangerfield ended.

"I think I understand!" Croyden laughed. "Before you came, she tackled me on Art, and, when I confessed to only the commercial side, and an intention to sell the Stuart and Peale, which, it seems, are at Clarendon, the pitying contempt was almost too much for me."

"My Lord! why weren't we here!" exclaimed Byrd.

"She's coming out to inspect my 'treasures,' on Thursday morning."

"Self invited?"

"I rather think so."