"Will
you please send the landlord to me?" she added.
John Milton disappeared in the hotel as she cantered to the porch. In
another moment she was giving the landlord her orders with the easy
confidence of one who knew herself only as an always welcome and highly
privileged guest, which was not without its effect. "And," she added
carelessly, "when everything is ready you will please tell--Mr."--
"Harcourt," suggested the landlord promptly.
Mrs. Ashwood's perfectly trained face gave not the slightest sign of the
surprise that had overtaken her. "Of course,--Mr. Harcourt."
"You know he's the son of the millionaire," continued the landlord, not
at all unwilling to display the importance of the habitues of Crystal
Spring, "though they've quarreled and don't get on together."
"I know," said the lady languidly, "and, if any one comes here for ME,
ask them to wait in the parlor until I come."
Then, submitting herself and her dusty habit to the awkward ministration
of the Irish chambermaid, she was quite thrilled with a delightful
curiosity. She vaguely remembered that she had heard something of the
Harcourt family discord,--but that was the divorced daughter surely!
And this young man was Harcourt's son, and they had quarreled! A quarrel
with a frank, open, ingenuous fellow like that--a mere boy--could only
be the father's fault. Luckily she had never mentioned the name of
Harcourt! She would not now; he need not know that it was his father who
had originated the party; why should she make him uncomfortable for the
few moments they were together?
There was nothing of this in her face as she descended and joined him.
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