Behind us, in the hall, Master Gerald, completely surfeited with about sixteen crowded hours of glorious life, lay fast asleep on a settee.
I looked curiously at Dolly as she leaned on her sister's shoulder. She was half a head taller than Kitty, and as she stood there, rosily flushed, in the dawn of her splendid womanhood, she might have stood for the very goddess whose first rays were now falling on her upturned face and glinting hair.
Then I looked at Robin, towering beside her, and suddenly I felt a little ashamed of myself.
For to tell the truth I had been very unhappy that evening, and I had been looking forward in a few minutes' time to unburdening myself to Kitty about recent events. But as I surveyed Dolly and Robin, curiously alike in their upright carriage and steady gaze, I suddenly realised that such a pair could safely be trusted to steer their own course; and I decided there and then not to communicate even to Kitty—my wife and Dolly's sister—the knowledge of what I had seen that night.
Kitty turned impulsively to her sister.
"After all, I've still got you, Dolly," she said.
I took a furtive glance at Robin's inscrutable countenance.
"I—wonder!" I said to myself.
"What, dear?" said Kitty.
"Nothing. I must carry this young ruffian up to bed, I suppose."