"Ida! Ida!" reproved Miss Hest, "don't----"
"I will," said the young lady crossly; "and I shan't ask Colonel Towton to the ball, when father won't let me ask Conny."
"You call him that?" asked Arthur, with a shrug. Ida looked at him indignantly, evidently with a conscience ill at ease. "I shall never speak to you again," she said in an offended tone.
"Not if I get your father to let Maunders come to the ball?"
"Oh, can you; can you?" she asked, in a girlish, delighted tone on this occasion. "I wish you would. Father likes you so much. And you can tell him," she added handsomely, "that if he will let me ask Conny I shall invite Colonel Towton. There--that's fair."
"You are playing with fire," warned Frances gravely. "Better not invite Mr. Maunders. You can never marry him."
"It's indelicate to speak of my marriage in the presence of a stranger," said Ida with some heat.
"I am not a stranger, I hope," remarked Vernon quickly.
"Yes, you are, when you are horrid," and with a rosy face of sheer annoyance she flitted to the end of the verandah. Ida was rather like Titania, being sylph-like, golden-haired, and blue-eyed, whereas Miss Hest resembled Judith with her strongly-marked handsome face and black eyebrows.
"Who is horrid?" asked a voice at this juncture, and Mr. Dimsdale appeared on the threshold of the French window, which was behind the table. "Ah, Arthur, is that you? I have been expecting to see you. Come into the library."