Angela
did not hear the faint rustling of muslin. Her back was half turned to the
house, and she was watching the aerial architecture of the fountain,
delicate domes and pinnacles built of crystal. Carmen thought reluctantly
that Mrs. May looked very young in her white frock, not more than eighteen
or nineteen. She wondered if the love pirate enjoyed life very much, and
whether she really cared for Nick and wanted to marry him or whether she
was only flirting. Then the profile at which Carmen had been gloomily
gazing turned into a full face. Angela smiled at Mrs. Gaylor. "You must
have hypnotized me," she said. "Suddenly I felt I was being looked at by
some one. Have you been taking a nap, too?"
"No," said her hostess. "I knew I couldn't go to sleep. I'm glad if you
rested. You look very fresh."
Angela could not conscientiously return the compliment. Mrs. Gaylor might
have been travelling for a week instead of one night.
Luncheon was in the pergola, where Carmen and Nick had dined together the
night he went away; the night--as she expressed it to herself of
late--when she had lost him. Angela had never seen a more beautiful place,
and said so, trying to make conversation; for now that Nick was not with
them she felt ill at ease with Mrs.
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