such a sacred
subject," Loring continued. "By Gad! Sometimes I believe she wishes that
we'd remained a Colony of Great Britain!"

("Blithering brute!... Can't you see she's only annoyed because you're
jawing this way before _me_?" thought Harold Grey wrathfully.)

But the truth was, that Loring had never forgiven Sophy for the off-hand
lesson read him by John Arundel. He half suspected that she had "put him
up to it, by gad!" That visit to England had left a big bruise on his
_amour propre_. And he "took it out" on Sophy now and then in some such
way.

The champagne was served. Belinda's health was drunk. She finished that
glass and began another.

"Be careful, Linda," cautioned her step-mother. "You're not used to
wine, you know."

All Belinda's dimples began to play like a throng of elves.

"Oh, _Mater_!" she cried. She leaned forward and squeezed Mrs. Horton's
dry, brown hand in her velvety white one. "You're too innocent and
guileless to run loose in this wicked old world by yourself ... you
really are!"

"What do you mean by that extraordinary speech, Linda?"

"Why ... as if the girls at the Pension didn't get bottles of fizz
smuggled in to them, any old time! Why, whenever we had a spread on the
sly, _some_body's cousin, or brother, or mash slipped us a quart or so
of champagne...."

Mrs. Horton looked really aghast. Loring roared. Harold Grey couldn't
take his eyes off those twinkling dimples, but in his heart he said: "By
Jove! She's a larky little baggage!"

Sophy was the only one who took it calmly. She had decided all of a
sudden that there was a good deal of "bluff" about Belinda--that she was
of the type that enjoys "shocking people." She said with a smile:

"I don't think you need look so horrified, Eleanor. I believe that
Belinda is taking what she'd call 'a rise' out of us."

Belinda only laughed, but she was vexed that Sophy should have seen
through her. She had not given her credit for such astuteness. The fact
was, that she had never had so much as a sip of champagne while at
Madame de Bruneton's excellent Pension. But she found this family meal
very dull, she hated seeing Loring in the bosom of domesticity.

However, she won more by her impish tarradiddle than she had looked for.
Morris turned to her with something of the old devilment in his eyes and
said:

"By Jove, Linda, I hope it's not all bluff! I hope you _are_ a
good-enough little sport to enjoy a glass of wine. Good cheer