“What do you mean?” asked Priscilla. “I have not any message for Mr Hammond.”
“You must have forgotten. Did not Miss Oliphant give you a letter for him?”
“Certainly not. What do you mean?”
“I felt sure I saw her,” said Rosalind. “I suppose I was mistaken. Well, sorry as I am to interrupt a pleasant talk, I fear I must ask you to come home with me now.”
She raised her pretty baby eyes to Hammond’s face as she spoke. He absolutely scowled down at her, shook hands warmly with Priscilla, and turned away.
“Come and bid Mrs Elliot-Smith good-bye,” said Rosalind, her eyes still dancing. “She is at the other end of the drawing-room; come, you can follow me.”
“How disgracefully you have behaved, Miss Merton!” began Priscilla at once. “You cannot expect me ever to speak to you again, and I shall certainly tell Miss Heath.”
They were walking across the crowded drawing-room now. Rosalind turned, and let her laughing eyes look full at Prissie.
“My dear Miss Peel, pray reserve any little scolding you intend to bestow upon me until we get out into the street, and please do not tread upon my dress!”