you know, Rags: 'Dawn,' or 'Sunset,' or 'Love in Spring,' or 'Passion
in Twilight,' and poetic things like that."

"Can't be very poetic bein' sick in 'em, by Jove! for those girls in
the nursery," remarked Rags, "especially if they've got a sense of
humour."

(One of them had. The shimmering sheath of silver and chiffon she wore
to-day, as it happened, rejoiced in the name of "First Love." It was
all white. She was being very careful of its virginal purity; but it
occurred to her that unless the sea's passion died, the frock would
soon have to be renamed "Second Love," or even "Slighted Affection,"
if not "Rejected Addresses.")

Urged by Eileen, who would think her a "pig" if she refused, Ena
reluctantly uncurled herself from a safe and graceful position on a
cushioned sofa. The result was alarming. Her swimming head warned her
that if she did not instantly sit down again something too awful to
think of in the presence of an earl would happen.

"You'd better go without me. I'm not very keen," she faintly
explained, appealing to Peter with her eyes.

He contrived to understand without asking stupid questions, as some
brothers would, and hurried the others off to the room of the mirrors.
No longer was it a room of mystery; yet romance, once awakened, cannot
be put to sleep in a minute, and Peter Rolls's heart beat with
excitement or shyness, he was not sure which, as Lady Eileen O'Neill
knocked at the dryad door.