Lady Kitty's face showed a variety of expressions.
"Are there many parties like this in London? Are the ladies asked, and
don't come? I--I don't--understand!"
Ashe looked at her kindly.
"There is no other hostess in London as clever as your mother," he
declared, and then tried to change the subject; but she paid no heed.
"The other day, at Aunt Grosville's," she said, slowly, "I asked if my
two cousins might come to-night, and they looked at me as though I were
mad! Oh,
do talk to me!" She came impulsively nearer, and Ashe noticed
that Darrell, standing against the doorway of communication, looked
round at them in amusement. "I liked your face--the very first moment
when I saw you across the room. Do you know--you're--you're very
handsome!" She drew back, her eyes fixed gravely, intently upon him.
For the first time Ashe was conscious of annoyance.
"I hope you won't mind my saying so"--his tone was a little short--"but
in this country we don't say those things. They're not--quite polite."
"Aren't they?" Her eyebrows arched themselves and her lips fell in
penitence. "I always called my French cousin, Henri la Fresnay,
beau!I am sure he liked it!" The accent was almost plaintive.
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