When he came back with the gla.s.s of water Mr. Biggielow had just brought Joe some salad. The usual struggle began between the two men. Mr. Bonamy Biggielow was a little poet.
"I ought to thank you, Miss Thorn, instead of you thanking me," said Vancouver, in a seductive voice, on one side of Joe.
"Is it not the most crowded supper you ever saw?" remarked Mr. Biggielow on the other side.
"Why?" said Joe, eating her salad and looking straight before her.
"I thought you were going to send me away. I was so glad when you condescended to make use of me," answered Vancouver.
Mr. Biggielow also answered Joe"s interrogation.
"Well," he said, "I mean it is thronged with people. There is a decided "sound of revelry by night"."
"Youth and beauty? That sort of thing?" said Joe to Biggielow. Then turning to Vancouver, she added, "Why should I send you away?"
"I hope there is no reason," he said gravely. "In fact, I am sure there is none, except that you would of course always do exactly as you pleased about that and everything else."
"Yes, indeed," Joe answered, and her lip curled a little proudly, "you are quite right about that. But then, you know, I did not send you away."
"Thanks, again," said Vancouver.
"Do let me get you something more, Miss Thorn," suggested Mr. Biggielow.
"No? There is any amount of _pates_. You always like"--
"Of course you have heard about Harrington?" said Vancouver in a low voice close to Josephine"s ear.
"No, really," she answered. "Will you take my plate? And the gla.s.s--thanks." Mr. Bonamy Biggielow was obliged to retire. "You mean about the senatorship?" asked Joe.
"Yes. The senator died this morning. Harrington will make a fight for it.
He has many friends."
"Among whom you count yourself, doubtless," remarked Joe.
"Not politically, of course. I take no active part"--
"Yes, I know." Joe knew the remainder of the sentence by heart. "Then you will have a glorious opportunity for maintaining an armed neutrality."
"Oh, if it comes to that," said Vancouver mildly, "I would rather see Harrington senator than some of our own men. At all events, he is honest."
"At all events!" Joe repeated. "You think, perhaps, that some man of your own party may be elected who will not turn out to be honest?"
"Well, the thing is possible. You see, politics are such a dirty business--all kinds of men get in."
Joe laughed in a way that made Vancouver nervous. He was beginning to know her, and he could tell when some sharp thrust was coming by the way she laughed. Nevertheless, he was fascinated by her.
"It is not long since you told me that Mr. Harrington"s very mild remark about extinguishing bribery and corruption was a piece of gross exaggeration," said Joe. "Why do you say politics are dirty work?"
"There is a great difference," answered Vancouver.
"What difference? Between what?"
"Between saying that the business of politics is not clean, and saying that all public officers are liars, like the Cretans."
"Who is exaggerating now?" asked Joe scornfully.
"Of course it is I," answered Vancouver, submissively. "If it is not a rude question, did not that dress come from Egypt?"
"Yes." The garment in question was made of a kind of soft white, fluted material over a rose-colored silk ground. The raised flutings followed the exquisite lines of Joe"s figure, and had the double merit of accentuating its symmetry, and of so leading the eye as to make her height seem greater than it really was. Cut square at the neck, it showed her dazzling throat at its best advantage, and a knot of pink lilies at the waist harmonized delicately with the color of the whole.
"It is just like you," said Vancouver, "to have something different from everybody else. I admire Eastern things so much, and one gets so tired of the everlasting round of French dresses."
"I am glad you like it," said Joe, indifferently.
"I am so anxious to meet your cousin, Miss Thorn," said Vancouver, trying a new subject. "I hear there is to be a dinner for him to-morrow night at Mrs. Sam Wyndham"s. But of course I am not asked."
"Why "of course"?" inquired Joe quickly.
"I believe Mrs. Wyndham thinks I dislike Englishmen," said Vancouver at random. "But she is really very much mistaken."
"Really?"
"Yes--I should be willing to like any number of Englishmen for the sake of being liked by one Englishwoman." He looked at Joe expressively as he spoke.
"Really?"
"Indeed, yes. Do you not believe me?"
"Oh, yes," said Joe. "Why should I not believe you?" Her voice was calm, but that same angry flush that had of late so often shown itself began to rise slowly at her temples. Vancouver saw it, and thought she was blushing at what he said.
"I trust you will," said Vancouver. "I trust that some day you will let me tell you who that Englishwoman is."
It was horrible; he was making love to her, this wretch, whom she despised. She turned her head away to hide the angry look in her eyes.
"Thanks--no, if you do not mind," said she. "I do not care to receive confidences,--I always forget to forget them." It was not in order that Poc.o.c.k Vancouver might make love to her that she had sent away Bonamy Biggielow, the harmless little poet. She wished him back again, but he was embarked in an enterprise to dispute with Johnny Hannibal a place near Miss St. Joseph. Mrs. Wyndham had long since disappeared.
"Will you please take me back to my aunt?" said Joe. As they pa.s.sed from the supper-room they suddenly came upon John Harrington, who was wandering about in an unattached fashion, apparently looking for some one. He bowed and stared a little at seeing Joe on Vancouver"s arm, but she gave him a look of such earnest entreaty that he turned and followed her at a distance to see what would happen. Seeing her sit down by her aunt, he came up and spoke to her, almost thrusting Vancouver aside with his broad shoulders. Vancouver, however, did not dispute the position, but turned on his heel and went away.
"Oh, I am so glad," said Joe, with a sigh of relief. "I thought I should never get away from him!"
It is amazing what a difference the common knowledge of a secret will make in the intimacy of two people.
"I was rather taken aback at seeing you with him," said John. "Not that it can make any difference to you," he added quickly, "only you seemed so angry at him this morning."
"But it does"--Joe began, impulsively. "That is, I began by meaning to cut him, and then I thought it would be a mistake to make a scandal."
"Yes," said John, "it would be a great mistake. Besides, I would not for all the world have you take a part in this thing. It would do no good, and it might do harm."
"I think I have taken a part already," said Joe, somewhat hurt.