“Well, you must remember just over tomorrow. I shall go next day. I must meet my grandfather in London.”
Nettie offered no opposition. On the contrary, she appeared rather relieved.
“Nettie, did you like Mr. Sutton’s looks?” asked Agatha after a pause.
“He’s too black and blue for my taste,” answered Nettie.
Willie Prime was red and yellow.
“Blue? Oh: you mean his cheeks?”
“Yes. But he’s a handsome gentleman all the same; and you should have seen his luggage! Such a dressing-bag—cost fifty pounds, I daresay.”
“Oh, dear, me,” said Agatha, “Yes, Nettie, I shall go the day after to-morrow.”
“Mr. Merceron asked to be introduced to me,” said Nettie proudly. “And he asked where you were—he said he’d seen you at the window.”
“Did he?” said Agatha negligently; and Nettie, finding the conversation flag, retired to her own room.