"I can't, not to-day. I have sprained my ankle," said Serena.
"Ah, but I haven't!" cried Ralph. "Let me take you for a waltz. My feet are so much bigger than yours that one pair like them will take the place of yours and of the little partners you have when you are dancing up-stairs. Come, your Serene Highness!"
Serena looked up with a delighted laugh. "That's my dearest pet name! How did you know it?" she cried, and held up her hands for Ralph to lift her. "I'm going to dance with this nice, this very nice big boy, Mary," she added to her nurse.
Ralph lifted her carefully. "I'll not harm her," he said to the doubtful Mary, and adjusting Serena to his broad shoulder Ralph began to dance with his little cousin, quite unmoved by what the other boys and girls might think of the queer performance. What Margery thought of it would be hard to say. She caught Robert Gaston's sleeve, he being nearest to her as usual, and her eyes shone like stars.
"Look!" she whispered. "Do look at Ralph! It's the most fortunate thing that little Serena happened to be hurt! Ralph can hardly resist a sweet child at any time, but one that is suffering is wholly irresistible to him. And Serena is such a lovely child!"
"Fortune is favoring you, Lady of the Deep-laid Plots," smiled Robert. "I am not surprised. I felt almost sure that the lion and the lamb would lie down together if you led them up."
"Oh, they haven't done that yet, but I can't help hoping!" cried Margery.
"Never try to help hoping, it's the best thing that one can do—I think I hope a little, wee bit myself these pleasant days, Margery."
Margery looked straight before her, trying to hide the tumult of her pulses as she heard her name without the prefix for the first time from Robert's lips, and guessed his meaning—as she easily might do.