"Of course you did! And I wish they were a hundred thousand miles away!"
The blank look of astonishment crept on to his face again as he stuttered:
"You—wish—they——"
"Yes, yes, yes."
"Well, I'm——Do—you—mean—to—tell—me that you weren't glad to see them? When during the whole of the first dinner you did nothing but simper and make eyes and laugh with Percy, till the veriest fool in Christendom could have seen you were head over ears in love with him?"
"I hate him! I hate him! I Hate Him!"
His sister's vehemence partly cleared the clouds away. Acted as a douche on his bad temper, as a tonic to his good one; coolly he said:
"My dear girl, take my advice; you'd better send for the quack! Your mind's unhinged; that's what's the matter with you. You're fairly going dotty! If you hate him, what the dev—deuce did you want to pretend to make love to him for?"
"I d—did it"—she was sobbing in her handkerchief now; all the stiffening gone from her back—"to annoy P—Prince Ch—Ch—Charlie."
What there was left of the look of astonishment quite left his face. The scales fell; his eyes were fully opened. Thrusting his hands into his pockets he said vigorously, characteristically: