“Yes, if you like,” she answered promptly. There is no more confident being on earth than a pretty girl in a successful dress.
They met Sir John at the entrance of the ballroom. He was wandering about, taking in a vast deal of detail.
“Well, young lady,” he said, with an old-world bow, “are you having a successful evening?”
Millicent laughed. She never knew quite how to take Sir John.
“Yes, I think so, thank you,” she answered, with a pretty smile. “I am enjoying myself very much.”
There was just the least suggestion of shyness in her manner, and it is just possible that this softened the old cynic's heart, for his manner was kinder and almost fatherly when he spoke again.
“Ah!” he said, “at your time of life you do not want much—plenty of partners and a few ices. Both easily obtainable.”
The last words were turned into a compliment by the courtly inclination of the head that accompanied them.
The exigencies of the moment forced the young people to go with the stream.
“Jack,” said Sir John, as they passed on, “when you have been deprived of Miss Chyne's society, come and console yourself with a glass of sherry.”