"Oh, thank you, papa, I am so glad!" exclaimed Beryl, feeling sure that she had gained his consent. "Do you think we might fix it for Friday? Every one will have gone by then."
"Yes, I should think Friday will suit," said her father; "but is it not a pity you did not plan it before Percy left us? He could have helped you finely."
"I would not have had the party whilst he was here for the world," said Beryl vehemently. "He would have spoiled everything. I don't want him to know anything about it. You won't tell him, will you, papa?"
"Certainly not, if you would rather he did not know," said Mr. Hollys, laughing to see the indignant glances Beryl cast at the back of the tall, slim youth who was walking some yards in front. "But how is it you dislike Percy so much, Beryl? He is very kind to you."
"Kind!" retorted Beryl, with a toss of the head, which made her father laugh again. "I don't call him kind. I'm so glad he is going to-morrow. But about Friday, papa. If you and Miss Burton think Friday will do, Coral and I might go and ask the children this afternoon. They ought to know soon."
"Oh yes; you had better give them a long invitation, for fear they should make engagements," said her father satirically.
Beryl saw the absurdity of this remark, and laughed heartily. By this time they were almost at the door of the church, and hearing her laugh, Percy turned round to discover the source of her merriment.
"What were you laughing at, little Duchess?" he asked, noting Beryl's radiant look as she came up to him.
"Nothing," she replied coldly, her indignation excited afresh by the ridiculous title which Percy chose to give her.
"Only idiots laugh at nothing," he returned.