cousin? I don't--well, I don't think I shall like her."

"That's a great pity," said Ashe.

"For me?" she said, distrustfully.

"For both, of course! My mother's very fond of Miss Lyster. She's often
with us."

"Oh!" said Kitty, and looked again at the face opposite. Then he heard
her say behind her fan, half to herself and half to him:

"She does not interest me in the least! She has no ideas! I'm sure she
has no ideas. Has she?"

She turned abruptly to Ashe.

"Every one calls her very clever."

Kitty looked contempt.

"That's nothing to do with it. It's not the clever people who have
ideas."

Ashe bantered her a little on the meaning of her words, till he
presently found that she was too young and unpractised to be able to
take his thrusts and return them, with equanimity. She could make a
daring sally or reply; but it was still the raw material of
conversation; it wanted ease and polish. And she was evidently conscious
of it herself, for presently her cheek flushed and her manner wavered.