"Don't you think her much improved?--much prettier?" asked she.

"Skating always suits a well-made girl. That black and scarlet get-up,
too, is very becoming, but pretty--hardly."

"She is, however, very much admired," said Mrs. Rolleston, warmly, for a
step-mother.

"Ah!" cried Bertie, with a slight accent of bitterness, "reasons enough
for that. How well some of these girls skate! Who is that shooting-star?"

The planet in question gyrated towards them, dropped on one knee on the
platform for the relief of strained ankles, and, as she addressed Mrs.
Rolleston, caught a look of decided admiration on Bertie's face.

A Canadian girl is nothing if not self-possessed; she sustained the gaze
with the most perfect calmness.

"Bluebell, this is my brother, Captain Du Meresq. Cecil ought to rest;
will you go and tell her to come here?"

"Who is that young beauty whom you addressed in the language of flowers?"
asked he.

"Nonsense, Bertie! she is Freddy's governess. You must not begin to talk
absurdity to her; you will annoy Edward."

"He don't object to fair faces on his own account."