Mrs. Vivian and Angela made her
companion graciously welcome; but Blanche begged they would n't mind
him--she had only brought him as a watch-dog.
"His place is on the rug," she said. "Captain Lovelock, go and lie down
on the rug."
"Upon my soul, there is nothing else but rugs in these French places!"
the Captain rejoined, looking round Mrs. Vivian's salon. "Which rug do
you mean?"
Mrs. Vivian had remarked to Blanche that it was very kind of her to come
first, and Blanche declared that she could not have laid her head on her
pillow before she had seen her dear Mrs. Vivian.
"Do you suppose I would wait because I am married?" she inquired, with
a keen little smile in her charming eyes. "I am not so much married as
that, I can tell you! Do you think I look much as if I were married,
with no one to bring me here to-night but Captain Lovelock?"
"I am sure Captain Lovelock is a very gallant escort," said Mrs. Vivian.
"Oh, he was not afraid--that is, he was not afraid of the journey,
though it lay all through those dreadful wild Champs Elysees. But when
we arrived, he was afraid to come in--to come up here. Captain Lovelock
is so modest, you know--in spite of all the success he had in America.
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