“Very well; convince me of it by saying you will come to the dance.”
The girlish pleasure of her face was evident.
“Do you really want me to?”
“It would make me very happy.”
“It is against my rules, you know. I can’t get up at six and go out in the evening besides. But I will make an exception for this once, to show you I wasn’t snubbing you! And, besides, I should love to.” The gayety of her look suddenly fell to hesitation. “Only I am afraid I can’t. I remember I haven’t any dress.”
“Any dress will do, Hilda.”
“But I haven’t any dress. The gray silk is impossible.”
Peter’s mind made a most unmasculine excursion into the position.
“But you were in London last year. You went to court. You must have had dresses.”
“Yes, but I gave them to Katherine when I came back. I had no need for them. Her own wore out, and mine fit her very well—a little too long and narrow, but that was easily altered. Perhaps the white satin would do, if it wasn’t cut at the bottom; it could be let down again, if it was only turned up. It is trimmed with mousseline de soie, and the flounce would hide the line.”