"I beg your pardon, but I believe this is Mr. Jadwin."

He took off his hat, evidently a little nonplussed that she should
know his name, and by now she was ready even to browbeat him a
little should it be necessary.

"Yes, yes," he answered, now much more confused than she, "my name
is Jadwin."

"I believe," continued Laura steadily, "we were all to be in the
same party to-night with the Cresslers. But they don't seem to come,
and we--my sister and my aunt and I--don't know what to do."

She saw that he was embarrassed, convinced, and the knowledge that
she controlled the little situation, that she could command him,
restored her all her equanimity.

"My name is Miss Dearborn," she continued. "I believe you know my
sister Page."

By some trick of manner she managed to convey to him the impression
that if he did not know her sister Page, that if for one instant he
should deem her to be bold, he would offer a mortal affront. She had
not yet forgiven him that stare of suspicion when first their eyes
had met; he should pay her for that yet.

"Miss Page,--your sister,--Miss Page Dearborn? Certainly I know
her," he answered. "And you have been waiting, too? What a pity!"
And he permitted himself the awkwardness of adding: "I did not know
that you were to be of our party."