But Dinah preferred to sit down against her knee, still holding the slender, inert hand.

“Tell me about your home!” Isabel said, closing languid eyes.  “I can’t talk much more, but I can listen.  It does not tire me to listen.”

Dinah hesitated somewhat.  “I don’t think you would find it very interesting,” she said.

“But I am interested,” Isabel said.  “You live in the country, I think you said.”

“At a place called Perrythorpe,” Dinah said.  “It’s a great hunting country.  My father hunts a lot and shoots too.”

“Do you hunt?” asked Isabel.

“Oh no, never!  There’s never any time.  I go for rambles sometimes on Sundays.  Other days I am always busy.  Fancy me hunting!” said Dinah, with a little laugh.

“I used to,” said Isabel.  “They always said I should end with a broken neck.  But I never did.”

“Are you very fond of riding?” asked Dinah.

“Not now, dear.  I am not fond of anything now.  Tell me some more, won’t you?  What makes you so busy that you never have time for any fun?”

Again Dinah hesitated.  “You see, we’re poor,” she said.  “My mother and I do all the work of the house and garden too.”

“And your father is able to hunt?” Isabel’s eyes opened.  Her hand closed upon Dinah’s caressingly.

“Oh yes, he has always hunted,” Dinah said.  “I don’t think he could do without it.  He would find it so dull.”

“I see,” said Isabel.  “But he can’t afford pleasures for you.”

There was no perceptible sarcasm in her voice, but Dinah coloured a little and went at once to her father’s defence.

“He sends Billy to a public school.  Of course I—­being only a girl—­don’t count.  And he has sent us out here, which was very good of him—­the sweetest thing he has ever done.  He had a lucky speculation the other day, and he has spent it nearly all on us.  Wasn’t that kind of him?”

“Very kind, dear,” said Isabel gently.  “How long are you to have out here?”

“Only three weeks, and half the time is gone already,” sighed Dinah.  “The de Vignes are not staying longer.  The Colonel is a J.P., and much too important to stay away for long.  And they are going to have a large house-party.  There isn’t much more than a week left now.”  She sighed again.

“And then you will have no more fun at all?” asked Isabel.

“Not a scrap—­nothing but work.”  Dinah’s voice quivered a little.  “I don’t suppose it has been very good for me coming out here,” she said.  “I—­I believe I’m much too fond of gaiety really.”

Isabel’s hand touched her cheek.  “Poor little girl!” she said.  “But you wouldn’t like to leave your mother to do all the drudgery alone.”

“Oh yes, I should,” said Dinah, with a touch of recklessness.  “I’d never go back if I could help it.  I love Dad of course; but—­” She paused.

“You don’t love your mother?” supplemented Isabel.