Fletcher.
"How came he here?" was her first question; "How will he behave to
me?" her second. As she could answer neither, she composed herself
as fast as possible, resolving to let matters take their own course,
and feeling in the mood for an encounter with a discarded lover, as
she took a womanish satisfaction in remembering that the very
personable gentleman before her had once been.
Mr. Fletcher and his companion passed on to find their host; and,
with a glance at the mirror opposite, which showed her that the
surprise of the moment had given her the color she lacked before,
Christie occupied herself with a portfolio of engravings, feeling
very much as she used to feel when waiting at a side scene for her
cue.
She had not long to wait before Mr. Power came up, and presented the
stranger; for such he fancied him, never having heard a certain
episode in Christie's life. Mr. Fletcher bowed, with no sign of
recognition in his face, and began to talk in the smooth, low voice
she remembered so well. For the moment, through sheer surprise,
Christie listened and replied as any young lady might have done to a
new-made acquaintance. But very soon she felt sure that Mr. Fletcher
intended to ignore the past; and, finding her on a higher round of
the social ladder, to accept the fact and begin again.
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