Kelson, receiving him with delight, introduced him, with an air of
proprietorship it seemed, to his companion, Miss Tredworth.
"Have you been exploring the old tower?" Gifford asked.
"We've been sitting out there," Kelson answered with a laugh. "They have
converted the lower rooms into quite snug retreats."
"In my uncle's day they were anything but snug," Gifford observed. "I
remember we used to play hide-and-seek up there."
He spoke with preoccupation, his eyes fixed on a bunch of white flowers
which the girl wore on her black dress. They were slightly blotched and
sprinkled with a dark colour in a way which was certainly not natural,
and Gifford, held by the peculiar sight, looked in wonder from the
flowers to the girl's face.
"You must give Gifford a dance," Kelson said, breaking up the rather
awkward pause.
"I'm afraid my card is full," Miss Tredworth said, holding it up.
Kelson laughed happily. "Then he shall have one of mine."
But Gifford protested. "Indeed I won't rob you, Harry," he declared. "I'm
tired, and should be a stupid partner."
"Tired?" Kelson remonstrated. "Why, you have been resting at the _Lion_
waiting for your things while we have been dancing our hardest.
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