Besides, if some plans of his succeeded, he would soon have to range himself.

Finding it was all right, and Lord Bromley disposed to be sociable, Harry made himself as entertaining as possible, and was communicative enough about everything but the proceedings of the last few weeks.

“I think you know most of the people in the house,” said his uncle, as Dutton was retiring to dress, “except, perhaps, one or two men.  Lady Calvert has brought her daughter here.  She was not out, you know, when you last went to sea.”

“I remember her, though; projecting teeth and—­”

“She will probably drop into all that Durnford property now Lionel is dead.”

When he came down to dinner, Lord Bromley introduced him very particularly to the few strangers present, who all thought how fond his uncle seemed of him, and that he would surely be the heir.

Dutton, like most careless dressing men, looked best in the regulation simplicity of evening clothes, in which the despotism of fashion curbs all vagaries of fancy.  More than one feminine critic smiled involuntary approval of the handsome young sailor, whose easy, slightly unconventional manner, though singular, was not unattractive.

He had been told off to take Lady Geraldine Vane in to dinner, and went to renew acquaintance with her at once.  She was dressed in a cloud of blue tulle, and wore a heavy white wreath on her hair, which was very light.  Complexion she had none.  She was pale without being fair.  Her features were irregular, lips thin, with projecting teeth, and eyebrows scarcely apparent at all.  Yet these defects were partly redeemed by one sole attraction, a pair of large, light eyes, with a great deal of heart in them.  They could glisten with affection and brighten with interest, and were the faithful mirrors of a modest, sensitive, and naturally amiable disposition.  But Harry thought her, dress and all, the most colourless object, and longed to offer even a damask rose to break the cold, sickly effect.

There was another young lady present, of a very different type to Lady Geraldine,—­not exactly pretty, but evidently aiming at being chic.  Her dress was of the latest fashion, and in a slightly audacious style, likewise the arrangement of her hair.  She had a pretty, neat figure, and a way of seeing everything through half-shut eyes.  This was Harry’s cousin Kate.

Perhaps it would be too much to say he was very fond of this young damsel; but, at any rate, he was delighted to find her there.  “She is such a jolly girl in a house!” he said to himself.

Kate, then a finished coquette of ten, used to try her hand at flirting with the big schoolboy; and when she had him in a state of helpless adoration, and all his pocket-money was gone in presents to her, would turn him off in favour of his particular friend, who was spending the holidays at Bromley Towers.  The two boys blacked each other’s eyes in consequence; but the capricious fair only remarked that “they had made such frights of themselves, the sooner they went back to school the better.”