THE AWKWARD AGE
"I see—he knew we would come." Then she caught herself up. "But we haven't come, have we?"
"Oh, it's all right—it's all right. To me the occasion's brilliant and the affluence great. I've had such talk with those young men—"
"I see"—she was again prompt, but beyond any young person he had ever met she might have struck him as literal. "You're not used to such talk. Neither am I. It's rather wonderful, isn't it? They're thought awfully clever, Mr. Van and Mr. Mitchy. Do you like them?" she pushed on.
Mr. Longdon, who, as compared with her, might have struck a spectator as infernally subtle, took an instant to think. "I've never met Mr. Mitchett before."
"Well, he always thinks one doesn't like him," Nanda explained. "But one does. One ought to," she added.
Her companion had another pause. "He likes you."
Oh, Mr. Longdon needn't have hesitated! "I know he does. He has told mother. He has told lots of people."
"He has told even you," Mr. Longdon smiled.
"Yes—but that isn't the same. I don't think he's a bit dreadful," she pursued. Still, there was a greater interest. "Do you like Mr. Van?"
This time her interlocutor indeed hung fire. "How can I tell? He dazzles me."
"But don't you like that?" Then before he could really say: "You're afraid he may be false?"
At this he fairly laughed. "You go to the point!" She just colored, to have amused him so, but he quickly went on: "I think one has a little natural nervousness at being carried off one's feet. I'm afraid I've always liked too much to see where I'm going."
"And you don't, with him?" She spoke with her curious hard interest. "I understand. But I think I like to be dazzled."
124
