II
"Your father," said Forrest, "says that I may have his seat at the head of the table. You see, Miss Dorothy, in the world in which I have lived there were no families. And I have the strongest desire to experiment in some of those things which I have missed…. Ballin," he exclaimed, "how lovely your daughters are!"
The young Earl of Moray glanced up mischievously.
"Do you think, sir," he drawled, "that I have made the best selection under the circumstances? Sometimes I think I ought to have made up to Ellen instead of Dorothy."
"What's the matter with us?" said Alice, and she laid her hand upon
Evelyn's.
"Oh, you little rotters!" exclaimed the earl, whom they sometimes teased to the point of agony. "No man in his senses would look at you."
"Right-O!" said young Stephen Ballin, who made the eighth at table. "They're like germs," he explained to Forrest—"very troublesome to deal with."
"It's because we're twins," said Evelyn. "Everybody who isn't twins is down on them."
"It's because they are always beautiful and good," said Alice. "Why don't you stand up for us, father?"
It was noticed that Mr. Ballin was not looking well; that the chicken mousse upon his plate was untouched, and that he fooled with his bread, breaking it, crumbling it, and rolling it into pellets. He pulled himself together and smiled upon his beloved twins.