"No, wait a moment," said the countess. "My dear, will you come and dine with us to-morrow, and forgive so informal an invitation? I will drive over to the Park and call upon Mrs. Mildmay this afternoon, and upon Mrs. Dodson. You, gentlemen, will honor us?" and with an amiable good-by she bade them start.
Although the great lady had been very gracious and smiled her sweetest, all the young people felt an indescribable sense of relief when they had got clear of the great iron gates, and the formal avenue. Ethel, who always seemed quieter and more reserved in her parent's presence, broke into a merry laugh which almost matched that of Violet's, who was telling her some anecdote concerning Leo, who trotted by her side with his great tongue out and his faithful eyes turned up to her with a look of admiring devotion.
"And now for the cliffs," said the captain, raising his white hand toward the sea. "I long for a breath of salt air. Mr. Fairfax, shall we put the horses to a little spurt? Mr. Leicester and my lord, you will look after the ladies?"
And so, much to Mr. Bertie's annoyance, he divided the party.
"How beautiful the sea looks," Violet said.
"Yes, the cloth of the field of gold with the jewel side uppermost," said Leicester. "But you can get a better view of it from that promontory yonder. Will you come?"
"Yes," said Violet. "Will you, Lady Boisdale?"
"No," murmured Ethel, in a low voice. "Not if you call me Lady Boisdale, but I will go anywhere with you if you will call me Ethel."
"I will call you Ethel if you call me Violet."
"That I will," said Ethel, and the bargain was struck.