"In fact, you are at daggers drawn," commented Violet. "And you want me
to come and divert the enemy's attention while you strengthen your
defences. Well, my dear, as I said before, I'll come. But--from what I
have seen of Dr. Maxwell Wyndham--I don't think I shall make much
impression. If he means to gobble you up, he certainly will do so,
whether I interfere or not. I've a notion you might do worse, green eyes
and red hair notwithstanding. He will probably whip you soundly now and
then and put you in the corner till you are good. But you will get to
like that in time. And I daresay he will be kind enough to let you lace
up his boots for a treat in between whiles."

Olga's pale eyes flashed. "You are positively mad this afternoon,
Violet!"

"Oh, no, I'm not. I haven't had a mad spell for a long time. I am only
extraordinarily shrewd and far-seeing. Well, dear, what shall I bring to
wear? Do you think I shall be appreciated in my red silk? Or will that
offend the eye of the virtuous Nick?"

"No, you are not to wear that red thing. Wear white. I like you best in
white."

"And black?"

"Yes, black too. But not colours. You are too beautiful for colours."

"Ridiculous child! That red thing, as you call it, suits me to
perfection."