She looked divinely
handsome in her ball-dress of a darkish shade of blue, relieved by a
bunch of roses in her corsage and a single diamond brooch. Statuesque,
too statuesque, Kelson had called her; certainly her manner and bearing
had a certain cold stateliness, but Gifford had penetration enough to
see that behind the reserve and the society tone of her welcome there
might easily be a depth of feeling which his friend with a lesser
knowledge of human nature never suspected. An interesting girl,
decidedly, Gifford concluded as he made a suitable acknowledgment of her
greeting, and, I fancy, my friend Harry takes a rather too superficial
view of her character, he thought, as strolling off in search of
Kelson, he found himself watching his hostess from across the room with
more than ordinary interest.
He soon encountered Kelson coming out of a gaily decorated passage which
he knew led to the old tower. He had a pretty girl on his arm, tall and
fair, but with none of Miss Morriston's dignified coldness. This girl had
a sunny, laughing face, and Gifford thought he understood why his friend
had not been enthusiastic over the probable Lady Painswick.
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