The idle gossip about
them had never affected Barker; rather he had that innate respect for
the secrets of others which is as inseparable from simplicity as it is
from high breeding, and he scarcely glanced at the different couples in
his progress through the room. He did not even notice a rather striking
and handsome woman, who, surrounded by two or three admirers, yet looked
up at Barker as he passed with self-conscious lids as if seeking a
return of her glance. But he moved on abstractedly, and only stopped
when he suddenly saw the familiar skirt of his wife at a further window,
and halted before it.
"Oh, it's YOU," said Mrs. Barker, with a half-nervous, half-impatient
laugh. "Why, I thought you'd certainly stay half the afternoon with your
old partner, considering that you haven't met for three years."
There was no doubt she HAD thought so; there was equally no doubt that
the conversation she was carrying on with her companion--a good-looking,
portly business man--was effectually interrupted. But Barker did not
notice it. "Captain Heath, my husband," she went on, carelessly rising
and smoothing her skirts. The captain, who had risen too, bowed vaguely
at the introduction, but Barker extended his hand frankly. "I found
Stacy busy," he said in answer to his wife, "but he is coming to dine
with us to-night."
"If you mean Jim Stacy, the banker," said Captain Heath, brightening
into greater ease, "he's the busiest man in California.
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