"He must burn or smash his horrid airship before my very eyes."
"Well," said I, thoughtfully and with intent, "he loves you so much that I believe he'll even do that."
"Oh, Cyrus, would he"--her eyes sparkled--"does he really love me?"
"Desperately. He's been miserable since you refused him."
"Oh, poor Dicky--" she began, but got no further, for Gertrude entered as the words left her lips and came forward with a smile.
"Lady Mabel," she said, holding out her hand, "I have no need to ask your name, as Cyrus has described you to me so often."
"Oh, we've known each other for ages," said Mabel warmly. "Cyrus is just like my elder brother. I am so glad to meet you. Cyrus told me--well, I daren't tell you what he told me, it would make him blush."
"I have not blushed since I was a baby," I retorted. "Gertrude, Lady Mabel is stopping at Tarhaven with her brother and----"
"Don't call me Lady Mabel. It's very rude. Miss Monk, why don't you keep him in better order?"
"Don't call me Miss Monk," said Gertrude, smiling. "I know you quite well from what Cyrus has told me, and, indeed, Mr. Weston."