King."
"Oh, I so hoped you would!" I responded, in mock dejection.
"Why, how can you expect it?" she exclaimed. "There'll be a lot of strange men here from all the country round, and I'm going to give them all my dances. I can dance any day with you men who are staying in the house."
"Do you mean that, Miss Leslie?" exclaimed Clarendon, in such apparent consternation that everybody laughed.
"On second thoughts, I'll give you one apiece, all round," said Mildred gaily.
Philip sat next her at the table.
"You'll give me more than that," he said in a low tone, "or else you needn't give me any."
"Very well," said Mildred airily, "you needn't have any. Lord Clarendon, if you care for two dances to-night, I have an extra one that has just been returned with thanks, which you may have."
"I accept it gladly, fair lady, but don't let it be one of your American two-steps, for I have not yet mastered their intricacies."
"They shall be any ones you choose," said Mildred, with a glance at the Earl, that was deliberately intended to delight him and to anger Philip, and succeeded perfectly in both cases.
"Mildred," said Tom Whiting, under his breath, as they left the table, "you are playing with fire."
"Perhaps I wish to get burnt," she retorted saucily, and ran laughing away.
That afternoon Philip and I chanced to find ourselves alone for a time. I was glad, for I hadn't had an opportunity to talk much with him.
We sat in a shady corner of the veranda and he looked moody and glum. Finally he threw his cigar away, and said, frankly, "What would you do with her, Peter?"
"Do you want me to answer you seriously," I said, "or flippantly?"
"Seriously, please."
"Then I think you'll have to teach her a lesson. You let her go too far, Philip; and you may find, when you try to curb her, you can't do it."
"I know I can't, King; she's reached that point already."
"Then begin as soon as possible. Tell her that she must either be engaged to you or not. And if she is engaged to you, she must stop flirting with the Earl."
"Good Heavens, Peter! it isn't the Earl that bothers me. It's someone quite different."
"Who?" I asked in astonishment, but just then we were interrupted, and I had no answer to my question. But it bothered me for a time; and I couldn't help wondering if by any possibility Philip could be jealous of me! It seemed absurd, for though of course I admired Milly Leslie, as everybody did, yet I wouldn't for the world have intruded upon Philip's rights. I could get no opportunity to speak to Philip again on the matter until that evening after dinner. The ladies had all gone away to dress for the dance, and Philip and I chose to stroll and smoke in the rose garden. But again my intention came to nought, for Earl Clarence joined us. Philip seemed in better spirits than in the afternoon, and he chaffed the Earl gaily, in an unusually merry mood.
It was after dark, but by the faint light of a moon which had not yet risen, we saw what seemed almost like a fairy being coming toward us. It was Mildred, and she was wrapped in a voluminous cloak of pale blue, beneath which showed a pair of dainty white dancing slippers.
"Oh," she exclaimed, drawing back as she recognized us, "I thought you were the gardener!"
"To which one of us did you pay that compliment?" inquired Philip, laughing.
"Oh, I won't be partial, I thought you were all gardeners," said Mildred drawing her cloak around her and seeming about to leave us,—though I felt sure she had no such intention, and was coquetting as usual.
"Do you want a gardener?" said I; "won't I do for one?"
"Well," and Mildred hesitated, "I was just dressing for the dance you know, and I found I must have,—simply must have some of those tiny yellow roses, that grow over there. I would have sent the maid for them, but I know she wouldn't select the very tiniest ones, and those are the ones I must have. So I thought I'd just run down and get them myself,—I never dreamed I'd meet anybody!" Though the big blue eyes looked babyishly innocent above the closely held blue wrap, I felt a secret conviction that those same eyes had seen the group of men in the rose garden, and did not mistake us for a group of gardeners.
"I knew everybody was dressing for the dance," she went on, "so I thought I couldn't possibly meet anybody." She pouted a little, as if we were to blame for interfering with her plan.
"It doesn't matter that you have met us, dear," said Philip, gently; "I'll cut some roses for you,—which ones do you want?"
Milly was a tease, there was no doubt about it. She smiled at Philip, and then turning deliberately to the Earl, said, "You're nearest to the yellow rose tree,—won't you cut me some, please?"
Philip spoke no word, but stood for a moment looking at the girl he loved. Then, in a tense, unnatural voice, he said, "Clarendon, will you look after Miss Leslie?" and, turning on his heel, walked rapidly away.
"Milly," said the Earl, eagerly stepping toward her.
It was the first time he had ever addressed her so, but Mildred had no intention of precipitating matters in this unconventional situation, and, too, she was troubled at the remembrance of Phil's disapproving glance.
"Lord Clarendon," she said coldly, "will you be so very kind as to pick me a few yellow roses, and let me hasten back to the house?"
"There is plenty of time," he said quietly; "please give me a few moments."
"No," said Mildred, stamping her foot impatiently, "I wish to return at once."
"Very well," said Clarendon gently, "I will not detain you. Will you have this spray?"
He selected a charming cluster of roses, and taking his penknife from his pocket cut them for her, and stood trimming off the thorns.
"I wish I might have given you flowers to wear this evening," he said.
His manner was gentle and deferential, and I was sure Mildred felt perhaps she had been too brusque, as she said kindly, "I wish so, too; but how could you have bought any flowers 'way off here in the country?"
"I could have sent to town for them, or gone myself for them."
"But I oughtn't to accept real hothouse flowers from you—"
"Why not? Because it would mean a special favor on your part? But that is just what I want it to mean, dear little girl—"
"Oh, Lord Clarendon, please don't! Please give me my flowers and let me go."
"Will you consider them a gift from me, as I can't get any others now? And will you let them mean—"
"Oh no, they don't mean anything—not anything at all—yet."
He had taken her hands and placed the spray of roses between them, and still held the two little hands, roses and all, close clasped in his own. Her long cloak, released, fell away, and the vision in the pale silken robe seemed to the noble Englishman quite the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He caught his breath, as he looked at the baby face, with its troubled, beseeching eyes.
"Please let me go, Lord Clarendon—please!" Then she gently disengaged her hands from his, and gathering up the folds of her blue cloak, prepared to run away.
But he detained her a moment. "Miss Leslie," he said, and his choking voice betrayed his passion, "I won't keep you now—but to-night you will give me an opportunity, won't you, to tell you—"
"To-night, my lord, you are to have one dance with me, you know."
"One? You promised me two!"
"Oh, I never keep dance promises. I'm not at all sure I shall give you one."
"But I'm sure you will, you tantalizing baby!"
"Now