She lifted her head, and saw Walter and Violet Earle with Mr. Valchester.
"I knew we should find you here," said Violet, with her soft laugh. "I have heard about your pretty retreat under the apple trees."
She did not say that she had come straight there, feeling quite sure of catching Jaquelina at a disadvantage.
Violet would not have owned to herself that she was prompted by a spiteful little feminine instinct. But she gave Ronald Valchester an arch little smile that said plainer than words:
"Did I not tell you the truth? Is not the little beauty of last night brown, awkward and shabby to-day?"
Violet herself looked as fair and pure as a lily in her cool, white dress and white chip hat with its delicate wreath of violets.
She had some violets fastened with the lace at her throat, and they were just the color of her eyes.
She was fully conscious of the pleasant fact that though Jaquelina had rivaled her last night, she had a very decided advantage over her to-day.
But men never do see with woman's eyes. Ronald Valchester only saw that the brune skin was glowing with the rosy tint of health, that the careless, boyish locks of chestnut hair had caught and held some stray gleams of summer sunshine, that the brown hands were slender and delicately formed.
He noticed, too, that the girlish form, guiltless of stays or laces, was very graceful with the willowy lightness and roundness so lovely in youth.