"No, I don't think so. We had more important matters to think of and talk about. He is a man who has travelled a good deal, and we found that we had quite a lot in common, having visited the same places and regarded many things from practically the same point of view. He took the trouble to be very entertaining," said Rose, with a pretty blush. "And his trouble was not misspent. I am convinced that he enjoyed the afternoon even more than I did. We also enjoyed the evening," she added. "He is an excellent dancer. We suited each other perfectly."
"Did you find him good at sitting out?" asked Dinah unexpectedly.
Rose looked at her enquiringly, but her eyes were fixed upon the distant mist-capped mountains. There was nothing in her aspect to indicate what had prompted the question.
"What a funny thing to ask!" she said, with her soft laugh. "No; we enjoyed dancing much too much to waste any time sitting out. He gave you one dance, I believe?"
"No," Dinah said briefly. "I gave him one."
She turned from her contemplation of the mountains. An odd little smile very different from Rose's smile of complacency hovered at the corners of her mouth. She gave Rose a swift and comprehensive glance, then slipped her pen into her writing-case and closed it.
"I am afraid I have interrupted you," said Rose.
"Oh no, it doesn't matter." Dinah's dimple showed for a second and was gone. "I can't write any more now. There's something about this air that makes me feel now and then that I must get up and jump. Does it affect you that way?"
"You funny little thing!" said Rose. "Why, no!"
Dinah's chin pointed upwards. She looked for the moment almost aggressively happy. But the next her look went beyond Rose, and she started. Her expression altered, became suddenly tender and anxious.