No more was said, and the girls did not take Sir Thomas Wynton into their conversation. He appeared to be a person of no importance to them. As they were parting Isabel asked: "What will you wear to-night, Christina?" and Christina answered: "I have not thought of my dress yet--what will you wear?" "My gray silk, trimmed with black lace." "Put on white laces; they are more becoming." "The dress is ready for the Social Club at the church, Friday. Why should I alter it for a couple of hours to-night? I wish you would wear your rose satin. You look so bonnie in it." "I'll not don it for Sir Thomas Wynton! I wish to wear it at Mrs. Bannerman's dinner Thursday, and Wynton is sure to be there. I don't want him to think I wore my best dress for him only. It would set him up too high." But if she did not wish to wear her rose satin for Sir Thomas, she appeared in a far more effective costume--a black Maltese lace gown, trimmed with bright rose-colored bows of satin ribbon. Her really fine arms were bare from the elbows, her square-cut neck showed a beautifully white, firm throat, and the glow of the ribbons was over her neck and arms, and touched the dress here and there charmingly. A bright red rose showed among the manifold braids of her black hair, and she had in her hand a rose-colored fan, with which she coquetted very prettily. Robert was charmed with her appearance, and told her so. "I want you to charm Sir Thomas Wynton for me," he added. "It is desirable that I should have him for a business partner. Do you understand?" She laughed, and putting her fan before her face asked in a whisper: "What will you give me, Robert, if I win him for you?" "Five hundred pounds," he said promptly. "Done!" she replied, and then, hearing the door open, she turned to see Sir Thomas Wynton entering. She went to meet him with a laughing welcome and with both hands extended. She sat at his side during dinner and kept him laughing, and when she left the dining-room ordered him with a pretty authority to be in the drawing-room for tea, in forty-five minutes. And he took out his watch, noted the time, and promised all she asked. In forty-five minutes exactly, he appeared in the drawing-room. Jepson was serving tea, and Christina's cup stood on the piano, for as Robert and Sir Thomas entered the room she was playing with lively, racy spirit, the prelude to the inimitably humorous song of "_The Laird o' Cockpen_." Sir Thomas went at once to her side, and when he spoke to her, she answered him with the musical, mocking words: "_The laird of Cockpen he's proud, and he's great, His mind is taen up wi' the things o' the State_," etc.