Mrs. Thorn's turban to be an invariable _pendant_ to your
_coiffure_ all the while Miss Ringgan is here?"

"Hush!"

With the entrance of company came Constance's return from
extravaganzas to a sufficiently graceful every-day manner,
only enough touched with high spirits and lawlessness to free
it from the charge of commonplace. But the contrast of these
high spirits with her own rather made Fleda's mood more quiet,
and it needed no quieting. Of the sundry people that she knew
among those presently assembled there were none that she
wanted to talk to; the rooms were hot, and she felt nervous
and fluttered, partly from encounters already sustained, and
partly from a little anxious expecting of Mr. Carleton's
appearance. The Evelyns had not said he was to be there, but
she had rather gathered it; and the remembrance of old times
was strong enough to make her very earnestly wish to see him,
and dread to be disappointed. She swung clear of Mr. Thorn,
with some difficulty, and ensconced herself under the shadow
of a large cabinet, between that and a young lady who was very
good society, for she wanted no help in carrying on the
business of it. All Fleda had to do was to sit still and
listen, or not listen, which she generally preferred. Miss
Tomlinson discoursed upon varieties, with great sociableness
and satisfaction; while poor Fleda's mind, letting all her
sense and nonsense go, was again taking a somewhat bird's-eye
view of things, and from the little centre of her post in Mrs.
Evelyn's drawing-room, casting curious glances over the
panorama of her life — England, France, New York, and Queechy!