"Oh, here comes Lady MacNairne—in her motor-coat and hood. She bought them yesterday—because they're Tibe-color. What excuse can I make? Oh, what are your conditions?"
"First, that you tell me you want me to stay."
"I do—on their account."
"That's not the way."
"Well, then, I ask you to stay. I hope your next condition isn't as hard."
"You must be the judge. It is, that you'll be civil to me, and friendly—at least in appearance. I have done, and will do my best for you and 'Lorelei.' In return, I'll have no more snubs."
"But if they've been deserved? No! I won't be brow-beaten."
"Nor will I. Good-by, again, Miss Van Buren."
"Here comes Phil now, in her motoring things. Oh dear! Have it as you like. I will—be nice to you."
She smiled in spite of herself, or else to encourage me with a sample of future treatment; and giving way to impulse at last, I held out my hand.