"No," said Ambrose coolly; "but I don't want to get you into trouble."
Colina's eyes snapped. "Thank you," she said; "you needn't be anxious.
You had better come—we dine at seven."
"I will be there," he said.
By this time she was mounted. As she gave Ginger his head Ambrose deftly caught her hand and kissed it. Colina was not displeased. If it had been self-consciously done she would have fumed.
She rode home with an uncomfortable little thought nagging at her breast. Was he really so simple as she had decided? Had he not baited her into losing her temper—and insisting on his coming to dinner? Surely he could not know her so well as that!
"Anyway, he is coming!" she thought with a little gush of satisfaction she did not stop to examine. "I'll wear evening dress, the black taffeta, and my string of pearls. At my own table it will be easier—and with father there to support me! We will see!"
CHAPTER VI.
THE DINNER.
Colina did not see her father until he came home from the store for dinner. She was already dressed and engaged in arranging the table.
John Gaviller's eyes gleamed approvingly at the sight of her in her finery. Black silk became Colina's blond beauty admirably. Manlike, he arrogated the extra preparations to himself. He thought it was a kind of peace offering from Colina.