“And who is that talking to your charming cousin?” asked a dowager who had succeeded in capturing Roger for five minutes in a corner.
“Oh, that’s my tutor, Armstrong—the best fellow in the world.”
“Evidently a great admirer of Miss Oliphant. No doubt the attraction is mutual?”
Roger laughed, and speculated on Armstrong’s horror were he to hear of such a suggestion.
“And that gentleman talking to Captain Oliphant? What relation is he?”
“He? None at all. He’s a Mr Ratman, an Indian friend of my guardian’s.”
“Dear me! I quite thought he was an Ingleton by his face—but I’m glad he is not; I dislike his appearance. Besides, he has already had more than is good for him.”
“He’s no great favourite,” said Roger shortly.
Presently Captain Oliphant and his companion stepped up to where Rosalind and her partner stood.
“Mr Armstrong,” said the former, “will you kindly see that the band gets supper after the next dance?”