By and by he came out again. And now the twilight had drawn on apace; there was a cold, clear light in the skies, while at the same moment a red glow began to shine through the canvas of the long tent. He walked over to one little group who were seated on a garden chair.
"Well," said he, "I have got pretty nearly all my people together now, Mrs. Ross."
"But where is Gertrude White?" said Mrs. Ross; "surely she is to be here?"
"Oh yes, I think so," said he. "Her father and herself both promised to come. You know her holidays have begun now."
"It is a good thing for that girl," said Miss Rawlinson, in her quick, staccato fashion, "that she has few holidays. Very good thing she has her work to mind. The way people run after her would turn any woman's head. The Grand D—— is said to have declared that she was one of the three prettiest women he saw in England: what can you expect if things like that get to a girl's ears?"
"But you know Gerty is quite unspoiled," said Mrs. Ross, warmly.
"Yes, so far," said the old lady, "So far she retains the courtesy of being hypocritical."
"Oh, Miss Rawlinson, I won't have you say such things of Gerty White!" Mrs. Ross protested. "You are a wicked old woman—isn't she Hugh?"
"I am saying it to her credit," continued the old lady, with much composure. "What I say is, that most pretty women who are much run after are flattered into frankness. When they are introduced to you, they don't take the trouble to conceal that they are quite indifferent to you. A plain woman will be decently civil, and will smile, and pretend she is pleased. A beauty—a recognized beauty—doesn't take the trouble to be hypocritical. Now Miss White does."
"It is an odd sort of compliment," said Colonel Ross, laughing. "What do you think of it Macleod?"