“I will come, if I may.” He added heedfully, “That is, if you are to be alone?”
“Alone, of course.” The girls eyes danced. Triumph had not often come to her, and to find a man, a man of distinction, who preferred her society to that of the beautiful Miss Dalrymple, was intoxicating. She swept her mother to her room, and implored her to make haste.
“Why?”
“Why? Because it is pleasanter to be alone.”
“Shall we be alone?”
Pinning on her veil, Millie admitted that she believed Mr Wareham would come.
“Oh!” Presently Mrs Ravenhill added, with a little intention—“Millie, don’t spoil Mr Wareham.”
The girl laughed frankly.
“The bare idea makes you fierce, mother, doesn’t it? But I do think it is nicer to have a man with us than to trail along by ourselves, and if he comes, he will expect things to—to—well, to go as he likes.”
Mrs Ravenhill emitted another “Oh!” She added—“In my day a man would have thought himself honoured.”