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Benjamin
nodded
coldly
.
"
Pretty
little
thing
,
"
he
said
indifferently
.
But
when
the
negro
boy
had
led
the
buggy
away
,
he
added
:
"
Dad
,
you
might
introduce
me
to
her
.
"
They
approached
a
group
,
of
which
Miss
Moncrief
was
the
centre
.
Reared
in
the
old
tradition
,
she
curtsied
low
before
Benjamin
.
Yes
,
he
might
have
a
dance
.
He
thanked
her
and
walked
away
--
staggered
away
.
The
interval
until
the
time
for
his
turn
should
arrive
dragged
itself
out
interminably
.
He
stood
close
to
the
wall
,
silent
,
inscrutable
,
watching
with
murderous
eyes
the
young
bloods
of
Baltimore
as
they
eddied
around
Hildegarde
Moncrief
,
passionate
admiration
in
their
faces
.
How
obnoxious
they
seemed
to
Benjamin
;
how
intolerably
rosy
!
Their
curling
brown
whiskers
aroused
in
him
a
feeling
equivalent
to
indigestion
.
But
when
his
own
time
came
,
and
he
drifted
with
her
out
upon
the
changing
floor
to
the
music
of
the
latest
waltz
from
Paris
,
his
jealousies
and
anxieties
melted
from
him
like
a
mantle
of
snow
.
Blind
with
enchantment
,
he
felt
that
life
was
just
beginning
.
"
You
and
your
brother
got
here
just
as
we
did
,
did
n't
you
?
"
asked
Hildegarde
,
looking
up
at
him
with
eyes
that
were
like
bright
blue
enamel
.
Benjamin
hesitated
.
If
she
took
him
for
his
father
's
brother
,
would
it
be
best
to
enlighten
her
?
He
remembered
his
experience
at
Yale
,
so
he
decided
against
it
.
It
would
be
rude
to
contradict
a
lady
;
it
would
be
criminal
to
mar
this
exquisite
occasion
with
the
grotesque
story
of
his
origin
.
Later
,
perhaps
.
So
he
nodded
,
smiled
,
listened
,
was
happy
.
"
I
like
men
of
your
age
,
"
Hildegarde
told
him
.
"
Young
boys
are
so
idiotic
.
They
tell
me
how
much
champagne
they
drink
at
college
,
and
how
much
money
they
lose
playing
cards
.
Men
of
your
age
know
how
to
appreciate
women
.
"
Benjamin
felt
himself
on
the
verge
of
a
proposal
--
with
an
effort
he
choked
back
the
impulse
.
"
You
're
just
the
romantic
age
,
"
she
continued
--
"
fifty
.
Twenty-five
is
too
wordly-wise
;
thirty
is
apt
to
be
pale
from
overwork
;
forty
is
the
age
of
long
stories
that
take
a
whole
cigar
to
tell
;
sixty
is
--
oh
,
sixty
is
too
near
seventy
;
but
fifty
is
the
mellow
age
.
I
love
fifty
.
"
Fifty
seemed
to
Benjamin
a
glorious
age
.
He
longed
passionately
to
be
fifty
.
"
I
've
always
said
,
"
went
on
Hildegarde
,
"
that
I
'd
rather
marry
a
man
of
fifty
and
be
taken
care
of
than
many
a
man
of
thirty
and
take
care
of
him
.
"
