Lady Helen smiled and nodded.
"We shall be in time to have her presented." Lady Helen bent her face towards father's and whispered something. He turned very white.
"Never mind," he said; "I always thought that presentation business was a great waste of time, and I am quite sure that we shall do well for little Heather without it."
"I am so tired," I could not help saying.
"Then home we'll go, my girl. Lady Helen, I will call early to-morrow and bring Heather with me, if I may. Whatever happens, she must be properly dressed."
"I shall be ready to receive you, Major, at eleven o'clock," said Lady Helen, and then she touched my hand coldly and indifferently, but smiled with her brilliant eyes at my father. Her motor-car was waiting for her; she was whirled away, and we drove back in our brougham to the hotel.
"Well, Heather," said my father, "what a wonderful day this must have been for you. Tell me how you felt about everything. You used to be such an outspoken little child. Didn't you just love the play, eh?"
"I loved the beginning of it," I said.
"You naughty girl! You mean to say you didn't like the end—all that part about Rosalind when she comes on the stage as a boy?"
"I could not see it, father—I could only see the back of your head; and oh, father, your head is getting very bald, but the back of Lady Helen's head isn't bald at all—it is covered with thick, thick hair, which goes out very wide at the sides and comes down low on her neck."