"Ya-as, only fawncy, ye knaw." His eyes were daringly mocking.
"For shame, Mr. Cameron! Sir Redmond would not mimic your speech."
"Good reason why; he couldn't, not if he tried a thousand years."
Beatrice knew this was the truth, so she fell back upon dignity.
"We will not discuss that subject, I think."
"I don't want to, anyway. I know another subject a million times more
interesting than Sir Redmond."
"Indeed!" Beatrice's eyebrows were at their highest. "And what is it,
then?"
"You!" Keith caught her hand; his eyes compelled her.
"I think," said Beatrice, drawing her hand away, "we will not discuss
that subject, either."
"Why?" Keith's eyes continued to woo.
"Because."
It occurred to Beatrice that an unsophisticated girl might easily think
Keith in earnest, with that look in his eyes.
Dorman, scowling at them over his shoulder, unconsciously did his
divinity a service. Beatrice pursed her lips in a way that drove Keith
nearly wild, and took up the weapon of silence.
"You said you women are alone--where is milord?" Keith began again,
after two minutes of lying there watching her.
"Sir Redmond is in Helena, on business. He's been making arrangements to
lease a lot of land."
"Ah-h!" Keith snapped a twig off a dead willow,
"We look for him home to-day, and Dick drove in to meet the train.
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