Roger was thinking as she sat there on a low
stool, one foot curled under her, that she looked absurdly young,
hardly more than a little girl. He believed she could be frivolous,
too, gay without being silly, as he put it. So few girls could achieve
that....

"Do you like dancing?" he demanded abruptly.

"Do I not!"

"Then I'll tell you what we'll do. To-morrow evening we'll run down to
the Casino for dinner and dance a bit. Would you care to?"

"It would be heavenly! But do I dare?"

She glanced at Miss Clifford.

"Why on earth not, my dear? When you're off duty, your time's your
own. You needn't stay very late, if you're afraid of over-sleeping in
the morning."

"Well, then, I will," Esther promised, her eyes shining with pleasure.

"Good girl! We'll have a regular beano. We both need it."

In the seclusion of her room that night Esther took out her best new
evening gown, bought in Paris, and examined it with satisfaction. She
had worn it only once; it had been a present from Miss Ferriss. Layers
of filmy chiffon, peach-coloured, it presented a delectable picture as
she spread it out on the bed. There was a shaggy diaphanous flower of
silver gauze to wear on the shoulder, and the shoes that went with it
were silver kid, well cut and severe.

"It is adorable," she sighed gloatingly, as she fingered the delicate
mass. "What luck to have it here where there are so many smart
dresses!"

She held it up in front of the mirror. Yes, this shade of pink suited
her perfectly; it brought out the bronze tones in her hair and
heightened the rose in her cheeks.

"I wonder if he likes me, too," she mused. "Or if I'm merely something
to dance with? Never mind, it doesn't matter. I do need a little
gaiety. I hope the doctor won't object--but why should he? I'm not
going to neglect my job. Still, he might; he's queer. That's the
worst of having the doctor living in the house. Such a nuisance!"

She spent halt an hour manicuring her nails and then, still feeling
wide-awake, decided on a bath. The bathroom was between her room and
the doctor's. On entering she found it, as usual, so stiflingly hot
that she was obliged to throw open the casement window and let the
cool, moist air steal into the room. For several minutes she leaned
out, breathing in the night odours of the dark garden. With them came
a heavier odour that was familiar, the acrid, pungent smell of the
doctor's tobacco. By it she c