"Will Miss Margery extend her invitation to Oscar, do you think?" asked Alice, in her quiet voice. "He is staying with us."
"To be sure: the more, the merrier," assented Frances. "Not that Oscar is one of my especial favourites," added the outspoken girl. "He is too solemn for me. Why, he is graver than a judge."
They all rambled on together. Gerard Hope and Frances somehow found themselves behind the others.
"Why did you stay today?" the girl asked him, in low tones. "After saying yesterday that it was simply impossible!"
"Could not tear myself away," he whispered back again. "For one thing, I thought I might again see you."
"Are you playing two games, Gerard?" continued Frances, giving him a keen glance. In truth she would like to know.
"I am not playing at one yet," answered the young man. "It would not do, you know."
"What would not do? As if any one could make anything of your talk when you go in for obscurity!" she added, with a light laugh, as she gave a toss to her pretty hat.
"Were I to attempt to talk less obscurely, I should soon be set down; therefore I never—we must conclude—shall do it," spoke he, in pained and strangely earnest tones. And with that Mr. Hope walked forward to join the others, leaving a line of pain on the fair open brow of Lady Frances Chenevix.