So Mrs. Miller returned to the parlor, and said Fanny was not feeling very
well and wished to be excused.
Stanton and Raymond passed a very pleasant evening, and ere its close they
had arranged with Mrs. Crane for rooms and board. On their way to the
hotel, Raymond suddenly exclaimed, "I say, Bob, I'm head over heels in
love!"
"In love with whom?" was Stanton's quiet reply.
"In love with whom?" repeated Raymond. "Why, Bob, is it possible your head
is so full of Nellie Ashton that you do not know that we have been in
company this evening with a perfect Hebe, an angel, a divine creature?"
"Please stop," said Stanton, "and not deal in so many superlatives. Which
of the fair ladies made such havoc with your heart? Was it Mrs. Crane?"
"Mrs. Crane! Witch of Endor just as soon," answered Raymond. "Why, man
alive, 'twas the beautiful Mrs. Carrington. I tell you what, Bob, my
destiny is upon me and she is its star. I see in her my future wife."
"Why, Fred," said Mr. Stanton, "are you crazy? Mrs. Carrington is at least
nearly thirty-five, and you are not yet twenty-five."
"I don't care for that," replied Raymond. "She may be thirty, and she may
be a hundred, but she looks sixteen. Such glorious eyes I never saw. And
she almost annihilated me with one of her captivating smiles. Her name,
too, is my favorite."
"Her name? Pray, how did you learn her name?" asked Stanton.
"Why," answered Raymond, "you know we were talking together a part of the
evening. Our conversation turned upon names, and I remarked that Ida was
my favorite. Bob, you ought to have seen her smile as she told me Ida was
her own name. Perhaps I said something foolish, for I replied that Ida was
a beautiful name and only fitted for such as she; but she smiled still
more sweetly and said I knew how to flatter."
"Well," answered Stanton. "I hardly think you will win her, if what our
friend Ashton said is true. You have no million to offer her."
"Oh, fly on your million!" said Raymond. "She's got to have me any way. If
I can't get her by fair means, I'll resort to stratagem."
Thus the young man raved for nearly half an hour about Mrs. Carrington,
whose handsome features, glossy curls, bright eyes, brilliant complexion
and agreeable manners had nearly turned his head. Mrs. Carrington, too,
had received an impression. There was something in Raymond's dashing
manner, which she called "air," and she felt greatly pleased with his
flattering compliments. She thought he would be a very pleasant companion
to flirt with for an hour or two; but could she have known what his real
intentions concerning her were she would have spurned him with contempt--as
she afterward did.