“That means you’re in a mischievous mood,” said the Colonel.

“It’s only a Cinderella affair,” pleaded Dinah.  “To-morrow’s Sunday, you know.  There’ll be no dancing to-morrow.”

“And a good thing too,” he commented.  “A pity Sunday doesn’t come oftener!  What will Lady Grace say I wonder?”

“But Rose is sure to dance,” urged Dinah.

“I’m not so sure of that, Sir Eustace Studley has been teaching her to ski all the afternoon, and if she isn’t tired, she ought to be.”

“Oh, lucky Rose!” Dinah knew an instant’s envy.  “But I expect she’ll dance all the same.  And—­and—­I may dance with him—­just once, mayn’t I?  There couldn’t be any harm in just one dance.  No one would notice that, would they?”

She pressed close to the Colonel with her petition, and he found it hard to refuse.  She made it with so childlike an earnestness, and—­all his pomposity notwithstanding—­he had a soft heart for children.

“There, be off with you!” he said.  “Yes, you may give him one dance if he asks for it.  But only one, mind!  That’s a bargain, is it?”

Dinah beamed radiant acquiescence.  “I’ll save all the rest for you.  You’re a dear to let me, and I’ll be ever so good.  Good-bye!”

She went, flitting like a butterfly up the stairs, and the Colonel smiled in spite of himself as he watched her go.  “Little witch!” he muttered.  “I wonder what your mother would say to you if she knew.”

Dinah raced breathless to her room, and began a fevered toilet.  It was true that she possessed nothing suitable for ballroom wear; but then the dance was to be quite informal, and she was too happy to fret herself over that fact.  She put on the white muslin frock which she had worn for dinner ever since she had been with the de Vignes.  It gave her a fairylike daintiness that had a charm of its own of which she was utterly unconscious.  Perhaps fortunately, she had no time to think of her appearance.  When she descended again, her eyes were still shining with a happiness so obvious that Billy, meeting her, exclaimed, “What have you got to be so cheerful about?”

She proceeded to tell him of the glorious afternoon she had spent, and was still in the midst of her description when Sir Eustace came up and joined them.

“I thought you would manage it,” he said, with smiling assurance.  “And now how many may I have?  All the waltzes?”

Dinah’s laugh rang so gaily that several heads were turned in her direction, and she smothered it in alarm.

“I can only give you one,” she said, with a great effort at sobriety.

“What?  Oh, nonsense!” he protested, his blue eyes dominating hers.  “You couldn’t be so shabby as that!”

Dinah’s chin pointed merrily upwards.  The situation had its humour.  It was certainly rather amusing to elude him.  She knew he had caught her far too easily the night before.

“It’s all I have to offer,” she declared.