“But you haven’t talked to my husband. Shall we go over?”
And with Tollifer beside her she walked across the room to where Cowperwood was standing talking with the captain and Mr. Courtright.
“Listen, Frank,” she said, lightly, “here’s another of your admirers.” And to Tollifer: “I find it’s impossible to keep the spotlight from him, Mr. Tollifer.”
Cowperwood bent on him the blandest of glances, saying:
“Well, one can’t have too many admirers.
Are you a part of the spring flight to the Continent, Mr. Tollifer?”
There was no least suggestion of acting. And suiting his method to Cowperwood’s, Tollifer smiled and replied easily:
“Yes, I suppose I am.
I have friends in London and Paris, and I’ve been thinking of doing some of the watering places later on.
A friend of mine has a place in Brittany.”
And turning to Aileen, he added: “By the way, you should really see that, Mrs. Cowperwood.
It’s very lovely.”
“Well, I’d certainly like to,” said Aileen, looking at Cowperwood.
“Do you suppose our plans could be made to include Brittany this summer, Frank?”
“Possibly. Hardly for me, though, with all I have to do. Still, we might arrange for a short visit,” he added, encouragingly.
“How long are you to be in London, Mr. Tollifer?”
“Just at the moment my plans are a little uncertain,” Tollifer answered, calmly.
“It may be a week, or a little longer.”
At this point, Alassandra, bored by Mr. Styles, who was trying to make an impression, came forward, determined to end this visit. She walked up to Tollifer, and said:
“Aren’t you forgetting our engagement, Bruce?”
“Oh, yes.
Will you excuse us? We really must leave.”
And turning to Aileen, he added: “I hope we shall see more of each other, Mrs. Cowperwood.”
To which Aileen, venomously irritated by the aloofness and presumptuous manner of this much too attractive young lady, exclaimed:
“Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Tollifer, it will be a pleasure!” And then noting a supercilious smile on the face of Miss Givens, she added: “Sorry you have to leave, Miss . . . ah . . .
Miss . . .” whereupon Tollifer instantly interjected: “Miss Givens.”
“Oh, yes,” continued Aileen,
“I didn’t get the name.”
But Alassandra, dismissing the snub with a lift of her eyebrows, took Tollifer’s arm and, smiling a farewell to Cowperwood, left the room.
Once they were alone, Aileen began at once to unburden her feelings.
“I hate these little social upstarts, without a thing except their family connections, so ready to upstage everybody else, or try to, at least!” she exclaimed.
“But, Aileen,” soothed Cowperwood, “how often have I told you, everyone makes the most of what he has.
In her case, she attaches great significance to her social position, and that’s why she’s so vicious about it.
She’s not really important, just silly.
Why let her irritate you?
Please don’t.”
At the moment he was mentally contrasting Aileen with Berenice.
How completely Berenice would have disposed of Alassandra!
“Well, anyhow,” concluded Aileen, defiantly, “Mr. Tollifer is gracious and charming enough.
And his position is quite as good as hers, I should judge.
Don’t you think so?”
“I certainly haven’t any reason to think otherwise,” replied Cowperwood, inwardly smiling, and yet not so much ironically as sadly, because of Aileen’s simplicity and innocence in regard to all this.
“At least Miss Givens appears to admire Mr. Tollifer. So if you accept her as socially somebody, I suppose you will have to accept him in the same way,” he said.
“Well, he has sense enough to be polite, and that’s more than she has, or almost any woman when it comes to another woman!”
“The trouble with women, Aileen, is that they are all in the same line of business.
Men, or rather their interests, are more diversified.”
“Just the same, I like Mr. Tollifer, and I certainly don’t like that girl at all!”
“Well, you don’t have to know her.
And as for him, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t be agreeable to him, if you wish.
Remember, I want you to be happy on this trip.”