Page:Maud Howe - A Newport Aquarelle.djvu/160



Not a very pretty place to talk about," she cried, as she rose slowly from her seat in Mrs. Fallow-Deer's morning-room.

"What an odd girl you are, Gladys! Well, good-by. I shall be out, tell Gray Grosvenor, by half-past one. Make him wait luncheon till I come. Don't forget your dish of croquettes, nor the champagne; they are all packed in a basket in the hall. Are you warmly enough dressed, child? How pale you look! Give your cheeks a little rub, so! That's better. Now trot along, and remember what I said to you at breakfast."

Gladys did look pale, and listless too, as she stepped into the dogcart, steadied by Mr. Larkington's hand; but he thought she never before had looked so lovely. There was a shadow in the eyes, which were usually so open and clear, without dissimulation or consciousness.

Larkington was not quite himself either,