"I hope you are as happy in possessing it as
the donor was in bestowing it."
"Thank you, Mr. Traverse, I think I can truthfully say that I am."
"Oh, Dexie! was it really given to you by a gentleman? Was it Lancy Gurney
who sent it?"
"Hardly, Gussie, or some other young lady would have a right to complain,"
smiling at Gussie's look of surprise.
"Then it was Hugh McNeil, as I thought. I always said you would repent your
behavior to him. Then I suppose the affair is settled. Where _is_ Hugh,
Dexie?"
Dexie did not answer at once, but clasped her hands, palms downward, in
that convulsive grasp that always told of some mental struggle. Something
of the old terror filled her heart at the very mention of Hugh's name, and
her answer was evidently uttered with much reluctance, not unmixed with
fear:
"He is probably on his way to New York, Gussie. Is there anything else you
would like to know?" forcing a smile to her lips.
Guy felt that something unusual had brought that look of alarm to Dexie's
face; he would ask the cause at the first opportunity.
Gussie felt sure that she knew all about it now, so began to twit her
sister about "giving in at last.
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