The guest herself had done honour to the feast
by putting on the most becoming of her diaphanous black evening dresses,
and, as she sat to the right of her host, each of her three feminine
critics admitted to their secret selves that she was that rather rare
thing, a genuinely pretty woman. Features, colouring, hair, were all as
near perfection as they well could be, while her slight, rounded figure
was singularly graceful.
How fortunate it is that we poor mortals cannot see into each other's
hearts and minds! Who, looking at Jack Tosswill's composed, secretive,
self-satisfied face, could have divined, even obscurely, his state of
mingled pride, ecstasy, and humble astonishment at his own good fortune?
To him the lovely young woman sitting next his father was as much his own
as though they had already been through the marriage ceremony, and he
felt awed and uplifted as well as triumphantly glad.
As for Godfrey Radmore, he also was affected rather more than he would
have cared to admit even to himself by the presence of Enid Crofton this
evening.
She had become to him something of a mystery, and there is always
something alluring in a mystery, especially if the mystery be young, and
endowed with that touch of pathos which makes feminine beauty always a
touch more attractive to the masculine heart.
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