All this passed through her mind while Mr. Vane-Ffoulkes was assuring her that she would skate like one to the manner born.
“I don’t think I can go,” she said hesitatingly. “For one thing I have no skates, and then——”
“I will manage the skates if only you will just come and try,” he said persuasively, and after a little more discussion Ivy consented, and the Honorable Bertie in the seventh heaven of happiness hurried away into the High Street, there to procure the most dainty little pair of skates that the place could supply, while Ivy, forgetting her anger in the satisfaction of her new scheme, ran in to make a hasty meal, and to put on the prettiest walking-dress and hat she possessed.
Late in the afternoon, Ralph and George Mowbray bicycling back from Brookfield Castle dismounted for a few minutes to watch the skaters in the park, and to speculate as to the chances of the ice for the next day.
“Hullo!” exclaimed Ralph, suddenly perceiving a graceful little figure skimming past under the guidance of a tall fair-haired man, “Why there’s Ivy Grant pioneered by the Honorable Bertie! Wonders will never cease.”
“So she has caved in at last,” said George Mowbray with a laugh, “having snubbed him all these months I thought she would have contrived to send him about his business. How cock-a-hoop he does look!”
It was quite patent to every one after this that Ivy’s objections to Mr. Vane-Ffoulkes were a thing of the past. She accepted every votive offering he brought her, skated with him at every available opportunity, and listened in the most flattering way to his extremely vapid talk. For each inch she granted him he was ready enough to seize an ell, and Macneillie who had no confidence at all in the character of his wealthy amateur, soon saw that things must be promptly checked.
“My dear,” he said one day to Evereld when their stay at Marden-town was drawing to a close. “I wish you would somehow contrive to give Ivy Grant a hint; she is going on very foolishly with Mr. Vane-Ffoulkes, and it is quite impossible that she can really have any regard for him.”
“I can’t manage to get hold of her,” said Evereld sighing. “She won’t come here and see me, but always makes some excuse.”
“Well, I shall get rid of Mr. Vane-Ffoulkes then,” said Macneillie. “He has been an insufferable nuisance ever since he came. Would you believe it—he actually had the presumption to grumble because Ralph was to play Hamlet! I believe he seriously thinks he would do it much better himself! The conceit of that fellow beats everything I ever knew. You should have seen his face when he found that he was cast for Rosencrantz! It was a picture!”