"It is very hot for balls, but one must do his duty. I hope I may be able to persuade you to give me a dance?"
"I don't know," said Ethel, with a smile.
At that moment her horse walked on a little. Mr. Fairfax moved farther up the rail, and then conversation, no more confidential than that we have already given, continued until Lord Fitz was heard to exclaim "Good-by," and then joined his sister.
Both the gentlemen on foot raised their hats, Bertie Fairfax with his cordial, pleasant smile, Leicester Dodson with his grave and also pleasant grace, and after a return of the salutations the four young people parted.
"Well," said Lord Fitz, from whose mind the recent meeting had expunged the unpleasant remembrances of his morning interview, "what do you think of them?"
Ethel was silent for a moment.
"I don't know which was the handsomer," she said, thoughtfully.
"That's just like you women, Eth; you always think of the graces first."
"Well," said Ethel, "there was no time to know anything more about them. I think Mr. Fairfax is very pleasant—he has a nice voice and such frank eyes. There are some men with whom you feel friendly in the first ten minutes; he is one of them."
"You're right," said Lord Fitz. "Bertie's the jolliest and dearest old fellow going. Poor old Bert!"