“Dinah, my dear, I think you have had almost enough for to-night.  And they were so very behind time in starting.  Your mother would not like you to stay up late, I feel sure.  You had better go to bed when this dance is over.  You are not accustomed to dissipation, remember.”

A swift cloud came over Dinah’s bright face.  “Oh, but, Lady Grace, I’m not in the least tired.  And I’m not a baby, you know.  I’m nearly twenty.  I really couldn’t go yet.”

“You will have plenty more opportunities, dear,” said Lady Grace, quite unruffled.  “Rose has decided to retire after this dance, and I shall do the same.  The Colonel is suffering with dyspepsia, and he does not wish us to be late.”

Dinah bit her lip.  “Oh, very well,” she said somewhat shortly; and to Scott, “We had better go at once then.”

He led her away obediently.  They ascended the stairs together.

As they reached the top of the flight Dinah’s indignation burst its bounds.  “Isn’t it too bad?  Why should I go to bed just because the Colonel’s got dyspepsia?  I don’t believe it’s that at all really.  It’s Rose who can’t bear to think that I am having as good a time—­or Better—­than she is.”

“May I say what I think?” asked Scott politely.

She stopped, facing him.  “Yes, do!”

He was smiling somewhat whimsically.  “I think that—­like Cinderella—­you may break the spell if you stay too long.”

“But isn’t it too bad?” protested Dinah.  “Your brother too—­I can’t disappoint him.”

Scott’s smile became a laugh.  “Oh, believe me, it would do him good, Miss Bathurst.  He gets his own way much too often.”

She smiled, but not very willingly.  “It does seem such a shame.  He has been—­so awfully nice to me.”

“That’s nothing,” said Scott airily.  “We can all be nice when we are enjoying ourselves.”

Dinah looked at him with sudden attention.  “Are you pointing a moral?” she asked severely.

“Trying to,” said Scott.

She tried to frown upon him, but very abruptly and completely failed.  Her pointed chin went up in a gay laugh.  “You do it very nicely,” she said.  “Thank you, Mr. Studley.  I won’t be grumpy any more.  It would be a pity to break the spell, as you say.  Will you explain to the prince?”

“Certainly,” he said, leading her on again.  “I shall make it quite clear to him that Cinderella was not to blame.  Here is our sitting-room at the end of this passage!”

He stopped at the door and would have opened it, but Dinah, smitten with sudden shyness, drew back.

“Hadn’t you better go in first and—­and explain?” she said.

“Oh no, quite unnecessary,” he said, and turned the handle.

At once a woman’s voice accosted him.  “For the Lord’s sake, Master Stumpy, come in quick and shut the door behind ye!  The racket downstairs is sending Miss Isabel nearly crazy, poor lamb.  And it’s meself that’s wondering what we’ll do to-night, for there’s no peace at all in this wooden shanty of a place.”