'on' with poor Jack. I believe, if he proposed, you would say 'No' one
day and retract the next."

They entered the drawing-room, where was young Vavasour, as usual, making
conversation to Mrs. Rolleston, who was at once bored and disproving.
Cecil shook hands pleasantly enough, but Bluebell, not even looking at
him, extended a lifeless hand in passing, and, picking up some work,
appeared absorbed in counting stitches.

Jack turned over in his own mind every possible cause of offence. He
couldn't perceive that it was he himself that was not wanted, and that
she cared not a button for anything he had done or left undone.

He talked on perseveringly with the others, glancing stealthily at
Bluebell tatting, till Cecil got up to make tea, when he moved to a seat
nearer.

"I wasn't out of uniform till four o'clock, Miss Leigh, or I should have
been at the Rink."

"So I suppose. You always go there, don't you?"

"When I expect to meet any one," trying to throw a sentimental look in
his generally laughing brown eyes.

"It isn't usually empty: but, of course, you don't go for the skating.
You'll never make anything of that."

"Any more than you will be of driving," retorted Jack. "Shall you ever
forget that crumpler down the bank? Dahlia hasn't recovered the fright