"Is that all?" says Rylton, somewhat piqued.
"Yes—all," with decision. "I can't bear people to kiss me on my mouth."
"Perhaps you would prefer that people would not kiss you at all?"
"Well, yes, I should," says she. "But," quickly, "of course, you are not quite like other people. You may kiss my cheek if you like."
"Thank you," says Rylton. "I appreciate the difference."
He kisses her cheek discreetly, but would have liked to shake her as he does so.
CHAPTER XXI.
HOW EVERYONE GOES TO LADY WARBECK'S DANCE, AND HELPS TO MAKE IT A SUCCESS; AND HOW MANY CURIOUS THINGS ARE SAID AND DONE THERE.
Everyone has come now, and old Lady Warbeck, resplendent in pearls and brocade, has dropped into a chair that some charitable person has placed behind her.
It is indeed close upon midnight, and dancing it at its height. Flowers are everywhere, and a band from town has been secured. This latter is quite a flight on the part of Lady Warbeck, who, as a rule, trusts the music to the local geniuses. Altogether everyone acknowledges it is very well done. Very well done indeed, and a good deal more than one would expect from the Warbecks!