ingers and raised my
head, she, rounded arm still extended as though forgotten, snapped her
thumb and forefinger together in vexation with a "Plague on it! There's
that odious Sir John!"

"Is Sir John Johnson so offensive to your ladyship?" inquired Sir
George, lazily.

"Offensive! Have you not heard how the beast drank wine from my slipper!
Never mind! I cannot endure him. Sir George, you must sit by me at
table--and you, too, Cousin Ormond, or he'll come bothering." She
glanced at the open door of the gun-room, a frown on her white brow.
"Oh, they're all here, I see. Sparks will fly ere sun-up. There's
Campbell, and McDonald, too, wi' the memory of Glencoe still stewing
betwixt them; and there's Guy Johnson, with a price on his head--and
plenty to sell it for him in County Tryon, gentlemen! And there's young
Walter Butler, cursing poor Cato that he touched his spur in drawing off
his boots--if he strikes Cato I'll strike him! And where are their fine
ladies, Sir George? Still primping at the mirror? Oh, la!" She stepped
back, laughing, raising her lovely arms a little. "Look at me. Am I well
laced, with nobody to aid me save Cecile, poor child, and Benny to hold
the candles--he being young enough for the office?"

"Happy, happy Benny!" murmured Sir George, inspecting her through his
quizzing-glass from head to toe.

"If you think it a happy office you may fill it yourself in future, Sir
George," she said. "I never knew an ass who failed to bray in ecstasy at
mention of a pair o' stays."

Sir George stared, and said, "Aha! clever--very, very clever!" in so
patronizing a tone that Dorothy reddened and bit her lip in vexation.

"That is ever your way," she said, "when I parry you to your confusion.
Take your eyes from me, Sir George! Cousin Ormond, am I dressed to your
taste or not?"

She stood there in her gown of brocade, beautifully flowered in peach
color, dainty, confident, challenging me to note one fault. Nor could I,
from the gold hair-pegs in her hair to the tip of her slim, pompadour
shoes peeping from the lace of her petticoat, which she lifted a trifle
to show her silken, flowered hose.

And--"There!" she cried, "I gowned myself, and I wear no paint. I wish
you would tell them as much when they laugh at me."

Now came the ladies, rustling down the stairway, and the gentlemen,
strolling in from their toilet and stirrup-cups in the gun-room, and I
noted that all wore service-swords, and laid their pi