"She's a pretty girl, Mary."
"Did Dick think so?" asked Lady Eynesford quickly.
Eleanor distinguished between Mrs. Puttock's remark and Dick's conduct. "Well, it looked like it," she answered.
"What do you mean?"
"To tell the truth, Mary, he danced with her half the evening, and, I think, would have gone on all night if Lady Perry hadn't stopped it."
"The wretched boy!"
At this moment the wretched boy happened to enter Lady Eynesford's boudoir. Dick was dressed for riding, was humming a tune, and appeared generally well pleased with himself and the world.
"You wretched boy!" said his sister-in-law.
Dick gave her one glance. Then, assuming an air of trepidation, he murmured reproachfully,
"Nous sommes trahis."