“May I ask you about things?” he said. “Who is that very, very funny little girl?”
“Do you mean Eve Wynford?”
“Perhaps that is her name. I mean the girl in white satin—the girl who wears a grown-up dress.”
“She is Audrey Wynford’s cousin.”
“What! the Tasmanian? The one who is to——”
“Yes. Hush! she will hear us,” said Sylvia.
The rustle of silk was heard on the stairs. Sylvia turned her head, and instinctively hid just behind Arthur; and Lady Frances, accompanied by several other ladies, all looking very stately and beautiful, joined the group of young people. A great deal of chattering and laughter followed. Evelyn was in her element. She was not a scrap shy, and going up to her aunt, said in a confident way:
“I hope you like this dress, Aunt Frances. Jasper chose it for me in Paris. It is quite Parisian, is it not? Don’t you think it stylish?”
“Hush, Evelyn!” said Lady Frances in a peremptory whisper. “We do not talk of dress except in our rooms.”
Evelyn pouted and bit her lip. Then she saw Sylvia, whose eyes were watching Lady Frances. Lady Frances also looked up and saw the tall and beautiful girl at the same moment.