She would have let her go, but Dinah clung to her still, her cheek against her shoulder. "I have been very frivolous, dear Mrs. Everard," she said. "I have done lots of things. This afternoon we were luging, and now I have just come from the carnival, I wish you could have been there. Some people are wearing the most horrible masks. Billy—my brother—has a beauty. He made it himself. I rather wanted it to wear, but he wouldn't part with it."
"You could never wear a mask, sweetheart," Isabel said, clasping the small brown hand in hers. "Your face is too sweet a thing to hide."
Dinah hugged her in naïve delight. "I always thought I was ugly before," she said.
Isabel's face wore a wan smile. She stroked the girl's soft cheek. "My dear, no one with a heart like yours could have an ugly face. How did you enjoy your dance with Eustace last night?"
Dinah bent her head a little, wishing earnestly that Scott were not in the room. "I loved it," she said in a low voice.
"And afterwards?" questioned Isabel. "No one was vexed with you, I hope?"
Dinah hesitated. "Colonel de Vigne wasn't best pleased, I'm afraid," she said, after a moment.
"He scolded you!" said Isabel, swift regret in her voice. "I am so sorry, dear child. I ought to have gone to look after you. I was selfish."
"Oh no—indeed!" Dinah protested. "It was entirely my own fault. He would have been cross in any case. They are like that."
Isabel uttered a sigh. "I shall have to try to meet them. Naturally they will not let you come to total strangers. Stumpy, remind me in the morning! I must manage somehow to meet this child's guardians."