Meantime Gertie’s present had been shown, and discussed, and admired by Edith, and Emma, and Godfrey, while Alice wondered if they were _real_ Cairngorms, and Julia had said, in Robert’s hearing, that she’d like to see _herself_ wearing stones which came from such a source, and the colonel had offered to send them to New York and have them set handsomely. But this Gertie would not permit. She had a plan in her mind which she hoped some day to carry out, and test Miss Julia’s unwillingness to “wear stones from such a source” as that white-haired woman over the sea, whom the proud beauty teasingly called “Gertie’s godmother.” CHAPTER XLI. A FEW DETAILS OF THAT SUMMER IN HAMPSTEAD. There were many guests at the Bartons’, and the Montgomeries’, and the Morrises, that summer, but nowhere was there so much hilarity and mirth as at Schuyler Hill, for there from time to time came dashing, brilliant people from New York and Philadelphia, and every room was full, and Godfrey took a small apartment in the attic, and made many jokes upon the high life he was enjoying. There were sails upon the river, and excursions to the mountains, and picnics in the woods, and dances on the piazza, and croquet parties on the lawn, and dinners, and suppers, and breakfasts, and lunches, and private theatricals in the great drawing-room; and toward the close of the summer there was a grand party at the Ridge House, to which the young people from the Hill were bidden, and Alice’s toilet was wonderful in texture and style, while Julia was pronounced the most beautiful lady there, until Gertie came, in her simple muslin dress, and eclipsed them all. It was rather late when she entered the crowded rooms, and after greeting Mrs. Barton and Rosamond drifted away from the colonel, who had accompanied her, and found herself close to Godfrey before she was aware of his proximity. Since that promise to his father, she had studiously avoided him, and Alice had no just cause for jealousy so far as Gertie was concerned. Godfrey, too, had made up his mind to accept his fate, and kept aloof from Gertie as much as possible, though there was a world of kindness in his voice whenever he spoke to her, and he always knew when she came in and when she went out, and his eyes followed her with a longing, hungry look, which Alice would have resented, had she noticed it and interpreted it aright. But she was not quick to see, and as Godfrey was very attentive to her, and called her his _little cat_, and teased her unmercifully, and kissed her every morning, she was satisfied and happy, and on the night of the party stood, flushed and triumphant, at his side, while he fanned her heated face, telling her she must not dance again for an hour at least, no matter who asked her; it was too warm for such exercise, and he preferred the open air; he did not mean to dance himself if he could help it, and if Alice liked they’d go out upon the west balcony,