greeted him very gently. She wore a pretty white dress and a pale blue
sash.

"I suppose you've been very happy these holidays?" said Dolly.

"Oh, I don't know! I've had a great deal to--to see to," said Savile.

"I suppose you see a great deal of The Other Girl?" said Dolly.

Considering that he had only been once to Wales to hear his idol sing at
a concert, there was a certain satisfaction in giving Dolly to
understand that he hadn't really had half a bad time; so he smiled and
didn't answer.

"Is she grown up?" asked Dolly.

Savile was cautiously reserved on the subject, but seemed to think he
might go so far as to say she _was_ grown up.

"Did you have fun last night?" he then asked.

"No. I was simply miserable."

"Why?"

"I kept the cotillon for Robert, though he hadn't exactly asked for it,
and when the time came the girl of the house, who is eighteen, actually
danced it with him!"

"Hope you didn't show you cared."

"No, I didn't; but I danced with a lot of stupid little boys, and I was
so bored! Besides, I _hate_ Robert. Wasn't it mean of him? He went to
supper with this grown-up girl, who was awfully amused at his foreign
accent, and he behaved as if _I_ was just a child, a friend of his
little sister Therese. Now, do you think, Savile, as a man of the world,
that I ought ever to speak to him again?"

"When's he going away?" asked Savile.

"Next week; at the end of the holidays."

"If you cut him dead as he deserves," said Savile, "it's treating him as
if he mattered. Of course, you _really_ showed you were offended?"

"Well--I suppose I did. You see, his head was quite turned by these old
grown-up girls making a fuss about him."

"What a rotter!" said Savile kindly. "Well, do you still like him?"

"No; I simply hate him, I tell you," said Dolly.

"Then don't bother about him any more."

Savile forbore to say, "I told you so!" He was however naturally
gratified.

"What I should like," said Dolly candidly, "would be to be able to tell
Therese--who would tell Robert--that I'm engaged to _you_!"

"Well, tell her so, if you like."

"Oh, what a brick you are! It's not very truthful though, is it?"

Savile said that didn't matter with foreigners.

"It is a pity," Dolly murmured, with a sigh, "that it can't _be_ true!"

"Yes--isn't it?" said Savile.

"After all," said Dolly, "you're not exactly _engaged_ to the other
girl."

"How do _you_ know?"

"Oh, I'm sure you're not."

"As