"I should have thought you would have improved the opportunity of seeing considerable of the Three Graces awheel," said Ainsley, after a few moments' pause.
"Their fathers discourage anything of that kind," laughed Philip; "as more than one young man has found out."
"But Miss May's relatives—do none of them ride?"
"They are too old for that sort of thing," laughed Ravenswood. "The old gentleman is as deaf as a post, and is relegated to the hotel piazza because of the gout. His wife is equally as deaf, and is too unwieldly to venture far from her corner of the piazza. It is laughable to hear them shout at each other through their ear-trumpets. I have often thought what a lonely life of it that beautiful young girl must have with those two old people. It would be unendurable, I fancy, if it were not for her two young friends."
"Probably they make up for not being companionable by not being so strict with their pretty prospective little heiress?" suggested Ainsley, again listening eagerly for his friend's reply.
"They certainly allow their granddaughter, or niece, whichever she is, more liberty than Hildegarde's or Lily Ryder's parents do. Still, I suppose they are confident that she can come to no harm, surrounded by such careful friends and companions."
"Did you say, Philip, you were going to the fancy-dress masquerade tournament?" asked Royal Ainsley, slowly.
"I do not propose to miss it," responded Ravenswood.
"Do you think you can secure me a ticket, Phil?" asked Ainsley, point-blank. "Grant me that favor if you can. Remember, I ask it as a great favor. Surely you can manage it somehow for me."
"I'll try," replied Ravenswood. "If it's possible, you shall attend."