“Rosalind Danks.”
“Rosalind,” repeated Erb thoughtfully.
“As it is,” said the other with a giggle of satisfaction, “my ‘King Robert of Sicily’ gets me more invites out than I know what to do with. I suppose your sister has told you all about it.”
“Talks of nothing else,” declared Erb inventively.
To his surprise, Mr. Danks shook him very warmly by the hand, giggling the while with satisfaction, and, with the remark that he must now do the amiable to the remaining member of the family, left Erb and went across to Louisa—Louisa, flushed and almost attractive looking from the excitement of dancing. Erb calculated the distance between himself and the fair Miss Luker, and, with an attempt to imitate the easy manner of Mr. Danks, lounged across in her direction, but before he reached her three of the young men had formed up defensively, and Erb had to lean clumsily against the wall near to his short sister and her new companion. Mr. Danks had placed a footstool for Louisa.
“You are rather short,” explained the excellently mannered footman.
“I stopped growin’ a purpose,” said Louisa, kicking the footstool aside.
“You don’t resemble your sister at all.”
“Mustn’t let her hear you say that,” remarked Louisa, “else she’ll be mad.”
“It’s been a very dull season in town,” said Mr. Danks regretfully.