Miss Cresswell's London Triumph by Evelyn Richardson

noticed Ned in conversation with a dashing redhead who looked to be a good deal amused and gratified with their tete-a-tete. At any rate, she kept hanging on to his arm in the most intimate way, Cassie reflected huffily. Not too much later, after Freddie had left her to ask a friend about a matched pair of grays he was eager to acquire, Cassie looked about for Horace, who had gone off to the card room to find his mother. As her glance swept the crowded ballroom it landed again on Ned, this time with Lady Jersey. That renowned coquette was positively draping herself all over him and he seemed to be enjoying it hugely.
    Thus, she was not in the best of humors when he strode across the floor to her just as a waltz was struck up. Bending over her hand, he looked up at her, quirking one dark brow and asked, "Would you grant a poor supplicant the very great honor, Cassie?"
    Annoyed though she was, Cassie found it impossible to resist the appeal in his dark blue eyes and, giving him her hand, allowed herself to be led onto the floor. As they whirled around the room she found herself wondering again at the change in her old gawky Ned, who bore not the least resemblance to the tall powerful man now guiding her skillfully among the maze of couples.
    However, it was the same old Ned who broke into her thoughts some minutes later in his usual direct manner. "Now, Cassie, what's this I hear about your lending a hand to the Comte de Vaudron? I should think that you would like it above all things. And you, with the background Frances gave you in history, as well as your own knowledge of Greek, will do the thing right. Why, if some moldly old pedant got hold of those marbles, he would want to bury them away so only the most devoted scholars among us would have the right to view them just as they have done with the zoological collection at the British Museum. It don't bear thinking of." Ned paused and regarded his partner thoughtfully. She was in many ways lovelier than ever, but somehow the spark that had made her what she was—awake on all suits and ready for any adventure—seemed to have disappeared. The thoughtful look on his face vanished as quickly as it had appeared and he continued in a rallying tone, "And speaking of pedants, I hear Wilbraham has joined the comte's entourage. Take care, Cass, lest you cast him in the shade. He doesn't take too kindly to competition, especially when it comes from someone with true intellectual attainments."
    Cassie did not look to be best pleased at this remark, and she defended her fellow scholar in a decidedly frosty tone. "I consider Horace Wilbraham to be quite the brightest young man of my acquaintance."
    Ned snorted, "Freddie and I didn't return a moment too soon if you are forced to make do for companionship with that pompous—"
    The calm disdain which Cassie had hitherto displayed dissolved in an instant as she retorted in a furious undertone, "Horace, at least, possesses a mind devoted to serious subjects, for which I admire him. He is concerned with higher things than causing a stir in the ballroom or at the opera. I am thankful to know someone who does not waste his time, as so many do, flitting from one person to the next, squandering his intelligence on idle flirtation and frivolous chatter. If there is a better man around, I am sure—"
    "You don't know," Ned finished. His brows snapped together and now, equally furious, he took up the battle. "Have a care, Cassie," he warned, "or you will become as much of a dead bore as he is."
    "Well, of all the wickedly unjust things," Cassie gasped. Too angry now for caution, she continued, "I should far rather be a bore than a silly heartless flirt like Arabella Taylor, whose only thought is to amuse herself, whatever the cost. I wish you joy of her."
    "Thank you. I am sure I shall receive it from a woman who at least knows how to enjoy herself and entertain others," Ned answered grimly.
    By now they were well within earshot of Frances and Kitty