"I've seen his side of it," Trent said frowning a little, "but what about Lady Daphne?"
"Power is always attractive," Miss Barham said wisely, "and we English women love politics. One can never tell. I think the earl would be furious but Daphne always gets her way and after all Mr. Castoon is a great catch whichever way you look at it. There's nothing financially shady about him and if Daphne should ever get bitten with the idea of making a salon, he's the man to marry."
"What a brutal way to look at it," he said gloomily.
"Are you young enough to believe in those delightful love matches, Mr. Trent?" the girl asked. "I did till I was almost fifteen."
Anthony Trent should have been amused to find himself on the side of the angels. As a rule life had provoked cynicism in him and here he was fighting for ideals.
"I talked like that until I was fifteen," he smiled, "and I meant it."
Ada Barham turned her dark brilliant eyes on him. She rather envied the girl who had captured him. She felt it was a lover talking.
"Of course you are in love," she retorted. "I always meet the really nice men too late. Dare you confess it?"
"I admit it," he said a little confused.
"American girls are very charming," Miss Barham declared. "I stayed at Newport a month last year. Of course you know Newport?"