She went to a theatre that night, and later to a dance, but neither
entertainment served to lift the deadening weight from her spirits. She
was miserable, and the four hours she subsequently spent in bed brought
her no relief.
She rose at last in sheer desperation, and went for an early ride in the
Park. She met a few acquaintances, but she shook them off. She wanted to
be alone.
When she was returning, however, her youthful admirer, Lord Harfield,
attached himself to her, refusing to be discouraged.
"I met your cousin at the Club yesterday," he told her.
"What is he like?" Priscilla asked, without much interest.
"Oh, haven't you seen him yet? A very queer fish, with a twang you could
cut with a knife. Don't think you'll like him," said Lord Harfield, who
was jealous of every man who so much as bowed to Priscilla.
Priscilla smiled faintly.
"I don't think so, either," she said. "You are coming to dine with us
to-night, aren't you? He will be there too."
"Will he? I say, what a bore for you! Yes, I'm coming. I'll do my best
to help you," the boy assured her eagerly.
And again Priscilla smiled. She was quite sure that she would be bored,
whatever happened, though she was too kind-hearted to say so.
IX
THE COMING OF HER HERO
"I wonder why Priscilla has put on that severely plain attire? It makes
her look almost ugly," sighed Lady Raffold.
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