Dora did not answer. She played absently with the little book on the table.
'Oh! but he's going to let us accept the invitation to Benet's Park—I didn't tell you that,' said Lucy suddenly, her face clearing.
Dora was startled.
'Why, I thought you told me he wouldn't go?'
'So I did. But—well, I let out!' said Lucy, colouring.
He's changed his mind. But I'm rather in a fright, Dora, though I don't tell him. Think of that big house and all those servants—I'm more frightened of them than of anybody! I say, do you think my new dresses'll do? You'll come up and look at them, won't you? Not that you're much use about dresses.'
Dora was profoundly interested and somewhat bewildered. That her little cousin Lucy, Purcell's daughter and Daddy's niece, should be going to stay as an invited guest in a castle, with an earl and countess, was very amazing. Was it because the Radicals had got the upper hand so much at the election? She could not understand it, but some of her old girlishness, her old interest in small womanish trifles, came back upon her, and she discussed the details of what Lucy might expect so eagerly that Lucy was quite delighted with her.
In the middle of their talk a step was heard in the hall.
'Ah, there he is!' said Lucy; 'now we'll ring for supper, and I'll go and get ready.'
Dora sat alone for a few minutes, and then David came in.