And yet Mr. Townsend was not like an actor; he
seemed so sincere, so natural. This was very interesting; but in the
midst of it Marian Almond came pushing through the crowd, with a
little ironical cry, when she found these young people still
together, which made every one turn round, and cost Catherine a
conscious blush. Marian broke up their talk, and told Mr. Townsend--
whom she treated as if she were already married, and he had become
her cousin--to run away to her mother, who had been wishing for the
last half-hour to introduce him to Mr. Almond.
"We shall meet again!" he said to Catherine as he left her, and
Catherine thought it a very original speech.
Her cousin took her by the arm, and made her walk about. "I needn't
ask you what you think of Morris!" the young girl exclaimed.
"Is that his name?"
"I don't ask you what you think of his name, but what you think of
himself," said Marian.
"Oh, nothing particular!" Catherine answered, dissembling for the
first time in her life.
"I have half a mind to tell him that!" cried Marian. "It will do him
good. He's so terribly conceited."
"Conceited?" said Catherine, staring.
"So Arthur says, and Arthur knows about him."
"Oh, don't tell him!" Catherine murmured imploringly.
"Don't tell him he's conceited? I have told him so a dozen times."
At this profession of audacity Catherine looked down at her little
companion in amazement.
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