The two girls bowed first, and then shook hands. There was no doubting Violet's open, kindly eyes on Ethel's part, and Ethel's gentle, quiet smile on Violet's.
"This is my brother, Fitz," she said, as Violet made room for her on the sofa, and Violet looked up and saw good-natured, simple Lord Boisdale standing looking down at her with his boyish grin.
Violet felt herself superior to him immediately, and bowed quite condescendingly, as she would to a schoolboy. Lord Fitz felt—well, he never could tell how he felt at their first meeting, though he tried to often afterward.
"What a pretty place this is!" said Ethel. "I am so sorry we have not known more of it. It is the prettiest drive possible up the cliff."
"And that house with the green, old buildings on the hill," said Lord Boisdale, "is quite a treat. I wonder who owns it?"
"Miss Violet Mildmay," said Mr. Fairfax, who was standing near, quite silent, for a wonder, and looking out of the corner of his frank, blue eyes at Ethel.
"Eh? Eh? I beg your pardon," said Lord Fitz, coloring.
"You have done nothing to need it," said Violet. "I am quite grateful to you for admiring what I love."
"Well, it is pretty," said Lord Fitz. "By Jove! prettier than this," he added, in a loud whisper, which was fortunately drowned by the announcement of dinner.
Mr. Dodson took in Lady Ethel, Lord Fitz followed up with Mrs. Mildmay, and Violet found herself upon Bertie Fairfax's arm, but Leicester Dodson sat near her at dinner, and, being at home, found it his duty to talk.