But as Mr. Pomken's
words sounded into one ear, into the other fell notes, listened to
from afar,--the shrill laughing voice of Marian Leslie as she gave
her happy order to her satellites around her, and ever and anon the
bass haw-haw of Captain Ewing, who was made welcome as the chief of
her attendants. That evening in a whisper to a brother councillor
Mr. Pomken communicated his opinion that after all there was not so
much in that young Cumming as some people said. But Mr. Pomken had
no idea that that young Cumming was in love.
And then the dinner came, spread over half an acre. Maurice was
among the last who seated himself; and when he did so it was in an
awkward comfortless corner, behind Mr. Pomken's back, and far away
from the laughter and mirth of the day. But yet from his comfortless
corner he could see Marian as she sat in her pride of power, with her
friend Julia Davis near her, a flirt as bad as herself, and her
satellites around her, obedient to her nod, and happy in her smiles.
"Now I won't allow any more champagne," said Marian, "or who will
there be steady enough to help me over the rocks to the grotto?"
"Oh, you have promised me!" cried the captain.
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