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.

"Well," said Darrell, as they stepped into the Green Park, "so you're
safely in. Congratulate you, old fellow. Anything else?"

"Yes. They've offered me Hickson's place. More fools they, don't you
think?"

"Good! Upon my word, Bill, you've got your foot in the stirrup now! Hope
you'll continue to be civil to poor devils like me."