She moved forward eagerly, saw Isabel seated in a low chair, and impulsively went to her.  “How kind you are to ask me to come again!” she said.

And then all in a moment Isabel’s arms came out to her, and she slipped down upon her knees beside her into their close embrace.

“How kind of you to come, dear child!” Isabel murmured.  “I am afraid it is a visit to the desert for you.”

“But I love to come!” Dinah told her with warm lips raised.  “I can’t tell you how much.  I was never so happy before.  Each day seems lovelier than the last.”

Isabel kissed her lingeringly, tenderly.  “My dear, you have a happy heart,” she said.  “Tell me what you have been doing since I saw you last!”

She would have let her go, but Dinah clung to her still, her cheek against her shoulder.  “I have been very frivolous, dear Mrs. Everard,” she said.  “I have done lots of things.  This afternoon we were luging, and now I have just come from the carnival, I wish you could have been there.  Some people are wearing the most horrible masks.  Billy—­my brother—­has a beauty.  He made it himself.  I rather wanted it to wear, but he wouldn’t part with it.”

“You could never wear a mask, sweetheart,” Isabel said, clasping the small brown hand in hers.  “Your face is too sweet a thing to hide.”

Dinah hugged her in naive delight.  “I always thought I was ugly before,” she said.

Isabel’s face wore a wan smile.  She stroked the girl’s soft cheek.  “My dear, no one with a heart like yours could have an ugly face.  How did you enjoy your dance with Eustace last night?”

Dinah bent her head a little, wishing earnestly that Scott were not in the room.  “I loved it,” she said in a low voice.

“And afterwards?” questioned Isabel.  “No one was vexed with you, I hope?”

Dinah hesitated.  “Colonel de Vigne wasn’t best pleased, I’m afraid,” she said, after a moment.

“He scolded you!” said Isabel, swift regret in her voice.  “I am so sorry, dear child.  I ought to have gone to look after you.  I was selfish.”

“Oh no—­indeed!” Dinah protested.  “It was entirely my own fault.  He would have been cross in any case.  They are like that.”

Isabel uttered a sigh.  “I shall have to try to meet them.  Naturally they will not let you come to total strangers.  Stumpy, remind me in the morning!  I must manage somehow to meet this child’s guardians.”

“Of course, dear,” said Scott.

Dinah, glancing towards him, saw him exchange a swift look with the old nurse in the background, but his voice held neither surprise nor gratification.  He took out a cigarette and began to smoke.

Isabel leaned back in her chair with abrupt weariness as if in reaction from the strain of a sudden unwonted exertion.  “Let me see!  Do I know your Christian name?  Ah yes,—­Dinah!  What a pretty gipsy name!  I think you are a little gipsy, are you not?  You have the charm of the woods about you.  Won’t you sit in that chair, dear?  You can’t be comfortable on the floor.”