excitement no doubt put there by the most important luncheon of her life. He waited for her to recognize him—and he did not wait in vain.
"Ah, Mr.—"
"Minot"
"Of course. In the hurry of this noon I quite overlooked an introduction, I am—"
"Miss Cynthia Meyrick. I happen to know because I met his lordship in New York. May I ask—was the luncheon—"
"Quite without a flaw. So you know Lord Harrowby?"
"Er—slightly. May I offer my very best wishes?"
"So good of you."
Formal, formal, formal. Was that how it must be between them hereafter? Well, it was better so. Miss Meyrick presented her father and her aunt, and that did not tend to lighten the formality. Icicles, both of them, though stocky puffing icicles. Aunt inquired if Mr. Minot was related to the Minots of Detroit, and when he failed to qualify, at once lost all interest in him.
