She assented, her whole face lighting up.
"And we're going to meet—the week after next!" she said, triumphantly, "in the country."
"Are we?—at Grosville Park. That's delightful."
"And then I'll ask your advice—I'll make you tell me—a hundred things! That's a bargain—mind!"
"Kitty! Come and help me with tea—there's a darling!"
Lady Kitty turned. A path had opened through the crowd, and Madame d'Estrées, much escorted, a vision of diamonds and pale-pink satin, appeared, leading the way to the supper-room, and the light "refection," accompanied by much champagne, which always closed these evenings.
The girl rose, as did her companion also. Madame d'Estrées threw a quick, half-satirical glance at Ashe, but he had eyes only for Lady Kitty, and her transformation at the touch of her mother's voice. She followed Madame d'Estrées with a singular and conscious dignity, her white skirts sweeping, her delicately fine head thrown back on her thin neck and shoulders. The black crowd closed about her; and Ashe's eyes pursued the slender figure till it disappeared.
Extreme youth—innocence—protest—pain—was it with these touching and pleading impressions, after all, that his first talk with Kitty Bristol had left him? Yet what a little étourdie! How lacking in the reserves, the natural instincts and shrinkings of the well-bred English girl!
Darrell and Ashe walked home together, through a windy night which was bringing out April scents even from the London grass and lilac-bushes.