"But I shan't be a bit tired," protested Dinah, faintly indignant.
"Of course not," laughed Sir Eustace. "You will be just ripe for a little fun. There's quite a cosy sitting-out place at the end of our corridor. I should go to bed viâ that route."
"Oh!" said Dinah, with a gasp.
She lifted her head in astonishment, and met the eyes that so thrilled her. "But—but that would be wrong!" she said.
"I've done naughtier things than that, my virtuous sprite," he said.
But Dinah did not laugh. Very suddenly quite unbidden there flashed across her the memory of Scott's look the night before and her own overwhelming confusion beneath it. What would her friend Mr. Greatheart say to such a proposal? What would he say could he see her now? The hot blood rushed to her face at the bare thought. She drew herself away from him. Her rapture was gone; she was burningly ashamed. The Colonel's majestic displeasure was as nothing in comparison with Scott's wordless disapproval.
"Oh, I couldn't do that," she said. "I—couldn't. I ought not to be here with you now."
"My fault," he said easily. "I brought you here before you knew where you were. If you go to confession, you can mention that as an extenuating circumstance."
"Oh, don't!" said Dinah, inexplicably stung by his manner. "It—it isn't nice of you to talk like that."
He put out his hand and touched her arm lightly, persuasively. "Then you are angry with me?" he said.