"Oh, that would only make it more delightful," cried the girl with triumphant eyes, as she noticed the slight indication of capitulation in Miss Hood's voice. "We're neighbours after all, you know, and haymaking too; why, the squire goes to Mr. Wurzel's harvest home. Nothing but the haymaking, and a little dance afterwards; oh, we should be so grateful."
"What's that about a little dance?" cried Georgie's husband with unaffected interest.
"Oh, Mr. Haggard, it's nothing; it's only an idea of pa's; it's our haymaking, you know, and we've been asking Miss Hood if The Warren won't honour us for once in a way."
Both girls fixed their eyes appealingly on Haggard's face.
The squire's son-in-law was quite aware that the wealthy Mr. Sleek was a parvenu. He knew that old Warrender would no more dine at The Park than he would think of attending the services of the Dissenting minister; but he himself was already beginning to feel rather hipped with the novelty of his quiet life at The Warren.
"Come, my dear Miss Sleek? of course we'll come. Georgie," he said to his wife, "Miss Sleek is good enough to ask us to her father's place. We'll be only too glad, of course."
With Georgie to yield to her husband's slightest wish was a second nature.
"Certainly, Reginald, if you wish it. I shall be very pleased," she added, though with an effort.
"It'll be great fun, I'm sure," exclaimed Haggard; "but you'll have mercy, Miss Sleek: you won't work us so hard at the haymaking as to knock us up for the promised dance, and you'll keep one little dance for me, won't you?" he added with cool familiarity.
The girl's face reddened with pleasure as she acquiesced with effusion. And as she thought of the glowing description in the local paper of the forthcoming festivities at The Park, her eyes sparkled with the anticipation of triumph. It would be an epoch in her life to have danced with a peer's great-nephew, with the husband of one of the reigning queens of society. But fresh joys were yet in store for the Misses Sleek.