Faithfully in the train of the Walraven party returned Mollie's adorers.
No one was surprised at the continued devotion of Messrs. Ingelow and
Oleander; but every one was surprised at Sir Roger Trajenna.

"Is it possible that proud old man has really fallen seriously in love
with that yellow-haired, flighty child?" asked Mrs. Carl Walraven in
angry surprise. "He was attentive at Washington, certainly; but I
fancied his absurd old eyes were only caught for the moment. If it
should prove serious, what a thing it will be for her! and these
antediluvians, in their dotage, will do such ridiculous things. My
Lady Trajenna! Detestable little minx! I should like to poison her!"

Miss Dane carried on her flirtations, despite her engagement, with her
three more youthful admirers.

Now and then Sir Roger, looking on with doting, but disapproving eyes,
ventured on a feeble remonstrance.

"It is unfair to yourself and unfair to me, my darling," he said. "Every
smile you bestow upon them is a stab to me. Do let me speak to Mr.
Walraven, and end it at once."

But still Mollie refused to consent.

"No, no, Sir Roger; let me have my own way a little longer. There is no
need of your being jealous. I don't care a straw for the three of them.
Only it is such fun. Wait a little longer."

Of course the fair-haired despot had her way.