ith most
of our things, and will probably be all beggars' creases before she has
a chance to wear them."

"She shall have a chance to wear any or all of them to-night, if she
wants to dance," said Sir Lionel.

"Of course she wants to dance," chimed in Captain Starlin. "Did you ever
see a young lady who didn't want to dance, especially on a man-o'-war?"

"_Do_ you want to?" repeated the Dragon.

Between them I was quite dashed, and murmured something non-committal
about its being very nice, if it had been convenient, but----

"There is no 'but,'" said Ellaline's guardian. "That settles it. We stop
the night in Southsea, where there's no doubt a good hotel; and I will
send someone immediately to the Ritz for your boxes, Emily--and yours."
He never calls me by name if he can help it.

Emily was inclined to object that it would be foolish to send, and we
didn't want all our things anyway, till her brother gave her a look--not
cross, but--well, just one of his looks that make you do things, or stop
doing them, whichever he pleases; and she didn't say any more.

I can't help rather liking his masterful ways, though they're
old-fashioned now that we're all supposed to think we need votes more
than frocks; but this time it really would have been ungrateful of me to
disapprove, as the whole fuss was being made for me. And I was dying to
go to the dance!

We went quickly back to the motor, spun into Southsea, and before the
female contingent knew exactly what was happening to it, rooms were
engaged for the night, and a "responsible person" despatched by the
first train to town, with a letter demanding certain articles of our
luggage.

I was quite excited about the evening, but outwardly was "more than
usual calm," as we wandered here and there, after luncheon, seeing
Southsea--which must, by the way, be a most convenient place for girls,
as they can choose between Navy and Army, or play with both if they are
pretty enough. Just as we were going to have a run out to Hayling Island
in the car, whom should we meet in the street, close to our hotel, but
Mrs. Senter and Dick Burden.

She was looking very fetching and young, almost like a girl, certainly
as unlike an aunt as possible. And, mother, I _know_ it wasn't an
accident. I don't mean about her being an aunt, of course, but being in
Southsea and meeting us.

The day she called, in London, when Sir Lionel was in Warwickshire, I
heard her asking Mrs. Norton questions