“You may trust well-bred American girls anywhere,” she said to her brother as she met him later in the evening, after all her guests had been welcomed, “especially such as are ours,” and she called his attention to Barbara, who at that moment was approaching on the arm of a distinguished-looking man, who was evidently absorbed with his fair companion.

Perfectly unconscious of herself, she moved with so much of womanly grace that Robert Sumner was startled.  She seemed like a stranger; this tall, queenly creature could not be the everyday Barbara who had been little more than a child to him.  In passing she looked with a loving smile at Mrs. Douglas, and then for a moment her eyes with the light still in them met his, and slowly turned away.  The soft flush on her cheek deepened, and Robert Sumner felt the swift blood surge back upon his heart until his head swam.  When last had he seen such a look in woman’s eyes?  Ah! how he had loved those sweet dark eyes long years ago!  Oh! the desolate longing!

Mrs. Douglas’s look had followed Barbara—­then had sought Bettina, who, with Margery by her side, was surrounded by a little group of admirers; so she was conscious of nothing unusual.  But Miss Sherman, who stood near, had seen Barbara’s flush and noted Mr. Sumner’s momentary pallor, and afterward his evident effort to be just himself again.  What could it mean? she thought.

All through the evening she had suffered from a little unreasonable jealousy as she had realized for the first time that these “Burnett girls,”—­mere companions of Margery, as she had always thought of them,—­were really young ladies, and most unusually beautiful ones, as she was forced to confess to herself.  She envied them the occasion, the honor they gained through their intimate connection with Mr. Sumner and Mrs. Douglas, and the impression they were so evidently making on everybody.  She was not broad or generous minded enough to be glad for the young girls from her own country as a nobler-minded woman would have been.  But that there could be any especial feeling, or even momentary thought, between Mr. Sumner and Barbara was too absurd to be considered for a moment.  That could not be.

Drawing near, she joined Mrs. Douglas and Mr. Sumner, and again sweetly congratulated them on the success of their party, the beauty of the rooms, etc.

“The young girls, too,” she said, “I am sure do you great credit—­quite grown-up they seem, I declare.  What a difference clothes make, do they not?  I have been a bit amused by some of their pretty airs, as an older woman could not fail to be,” and an indulgent smile played about her lips.

As it was time to go to the dining room for refreshments, Mrs. Douglas, in accordance with a preconceived plan, asked her brother to lead the way with Miss Sherman.  When Barbara entered the room soon after with Howard, she saw the two sitting behind the partial screen of a big palm.  She felt a momentary wish that she could know what they were so earnestly talking about, and, presently, was conscious that Mr. Sumner’s eyes sought her.