"You'll get on all right," Ulyth encouraged her. "That last was ever so much better; you're dropping into it quite nicely. You dance lightly, at any rate. Now try again with Oswald while I play. Ossie, I'm proud of you! Last Christmas you were a perfect duffer at it. Don't you remember how you sat out at the Warings'? You've improved immensely. Now go on!" and Ulyth began to play, with her eyes alternately on the piano and on the partners.
"I suppose a fellow has to get used to 'the light fantastic' sometime," remarked Oswald, as, after a successful five minutes' practice, he and Rona sat down to rest.
"Perhaps you'll have to dance with princesses at foreign Courts when you're a successful ambassador," laughed Ulyth.
"Is that what Oswald's going to be?" asked Rona.
"I'd have tried the Army or the Navy, but my wretched eyes cut me off from both; so it's no use, worse luck!" said Oswald. "I should like to get into the Diplomatic Service immensely though, if I could."
"Why can't you? I should think you could do anything you really wanted."
"Thanks for the compliment. But it's not so easy as it sounds. I wish I had a friend at Court."
"We don't know anybody in the Government," sighed Ulyth. "Not a solitary, single person. I've never even seen a member of Parliament, except, of course, Lord Glyncraig sometimes at church; but then I've never spoken to him. Stephanie had tea with him once. She doesn't let us forget that."
"I wish you'd had tea with him, and happened to mention particularly the extreme fascinations and abilities of your elder brother," laughed Oswald.
"Could Lord Glyncraig be of any use to you?" asked Rona. She had grown suddenly thoughtful.