There were later instances, perhaps, of deeper satisfaction, but they were more or less perplexed, and not unobscured by anxiety.

That afternoon it was all to know and to be experienced, with just a delicious foretaste.
I said something presently about Lady Pilkey's picnic on the morrow, to which we had both been bidden.
'Shall I call for you ?' I asked.

'You will ride, of course.' 'Thanks, but I've cried off--I'm going sketching.' Her eyes plainly added, 'with Ingersoll Armour,' but she as obviously shrank from the roughness of pitching him in that unconsidered way before us.

For some reason I refrained from taking the cue.

I would not lug him in either.
'That is a new accomplishment,' was as much as I felt I could say with dignity, and she responded: 'Yes, isn't it ?' I felt some slight indignation on Lady Pilkey's account.