venue, he overtook Diane, also
making her way homeward, the happy occurrence seemed but part of the
general radiance permeating life. The chance meeting on the neutral
ground of out-of-doors took Diane by surprise; and before she had time
to put up her guards of reserve she had betrayed her youth in a shy
heightening of color. Under the protection of the cheerful, slowly
moving crowd she felt at liberty to drop for a minute the subdued air of
his daughter's paid companion, and in her replies to what he said she
spoke with some of her old gayety of verve. It was an unfortunate moment
in which to yield to this temptation, for it was, perhaps, the only
occasion since her coming to New York on which she was closely observed.
Engrossed as they were, the one with the other, they had insensibly
relaxed their pace, becoming mere strollers on the outside edge of the
throng. The sense of being watched came to both of them at once, and,
looking up at the same moment, they saw, approaching at a snail's pace,
an open Victoria, in which were two ladies, to whom they were objects of
plainly expressed interest. The elder was an insignificant little woman,
who looked as though she were being taken out by her costly furs, while
the younger was a girl of some two or three and twenty, of a type of
beauty that would have been too imperious had it not been toned down by
that air which to the unintelligent means boredom, though the wise know
it to spring from something gone amiss in life. Both ladies kept their
eyes fixed so exclusively on Diane that they had almost passed before
remembering to salute Derek with a nod.
"I've seen those ladies somewhere," Diane observed, when they had gone
by.
"I dare say. They've probably seen you, too. The elder is Mrs. Bayford,
sister of Mr. Grimston, my uncle's partner in Paris. The girl is Marion
Grimston, his daughter."
"I remember perfectly now. They used to come to our charity sales,
and--and--anything of that kind."
Pruyn laughed.
"Anything, you mean, that was open to all comers. Mrs. Grimston would be
flattered."
"I didn't mean to speak slightingly," she hastened to say. "There were
plenty of nice people in Paris whom I didn't know."
"And plenty, I imagine, who thought you ought to have known them. Mrs.
Grimston, and Mrs. Bayford, too, would have been among that number."
"Well, you see I do know them--by sight. I recall Miss Grimston
especially. She's so handsome."
"I shall tel
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