"But I do not like to look so pale," said Margaret, gravely. "I think I will ring for Villars."
"You could not look nicer—to me—in any dress!" exclaimed her ardent admirer.
"You dear—oh, yes; but there may be visitors at luncheon."
"I thought you would be alone," faltered Janetta, with a momentary glance at her own neat and clean, but plain, little cotton frock.
"Well, perhaps there will be only one person beside yourself," said Margaret, turning aside her long neck to catch a glimpse of the shining coils behind. "And I don't know that it matters—it is only Sir Philip Ashley."
"Oh, I remember him. He was here when we came back from Brighton."
"He is often here."
"What lovely flowers!" Janetta exclaimed, rather to break a pause that followed than because she had looked particularly at a bouquet that filled a large white vase on a table. But the flowers really were lovely, and Margaret's face expressed some satisfaction. "Did they come out of your garden?"
"No, Sir Philip sent them."
"Oh, how nice!" said Janetta. But she was a little surprised too. Had not the Adairs plenty of flowers without receiving contributions from Sir Philip's conservatories?