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It was evident that our presence was no longer desired in the house of the Paddingtons. And no wonder! "Let us go," I said, proceeding to the coat room. The Count met us on the way. "You are a liar a jackass!" he hissed into Rayel's ear. Hastily drawing on our coats we stepped out into the chilly night air and walked leisurely down the deserted avenue. Neither of us spoke for some moments.
"We'll never forget her!" said Madeline, with delicate decision, laying down the silk necktie she was knitting for Roscoe. "What beautiful manners she had!" "How rich is she, mother? Do you know?" asked Dora. "Rich enough to do something for Roscoe, I'm sure, if she had a proper family spirit," replied Mrs. Warden. "Her mother was own cousin to my grandmother one of the Virginia Paddingtons.
This conversation may seem commonplace enough, but it stands in close relation to important events which will shortly claim our attention. The subject which it introduces was not soon abandoned. We talked about it on our way to the Paddingtons' that evening, where we were cordially received by our host, and introduced to a large company of ladies and gentlemen.
One of the society journals had printed a highly colored version of that little episode at the house of the Paddingtons, and had concluded its article by saying that the fair Miss Paddington had fallen madly in love with her father's strange guest.
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