"Oh, it is detestable! A hoyden--a mere _hoyden_," says Lady Rylton
pettishly. "Look at her hair!"

And, indeed, it must be confessed that the hoyden's hair is not all
it ought to be. It is in effect "all over the place"--it is straight
here, and wandering there; but perhaps its wildness helps to make
more charming the naughty childish little face that peeps out of it.

"She has no manners--_none!"_ says Lady Rylton. "She----"

"Ah, is that you, Lady Rylton?" cries the small creature on the
terrace, having caught a glimpse of her hostess through the window.

"Yes, come in--come in!" cries Lady Rylton, changing her tone at
once, and smiling and beckoning to the girl with long fingers. "I
hope you have not been fatiguing yourself on the tennis-courts, you
dearest child!"

Her tones are cooing.

"I have won, at all events!" says Tita, jumping in over the
window-sill. "Though Mr. Gower," glancing back at her companion,
"won't acknowledge it."

"Why should I acknowledge it?" says the stout young man. "It's folly
to acknowledge anything."

"But the truth is the truth!" says the girl, facing him.