“He is very good, I am sure,” said Frederick, stiffening in spite of himself. “Oh, I know,” said Amanda, with a toss of her head. “We are not so fine as you are, we don’t visit with county people, nor that sort of thing. But we have plenty of people come to see us who are better off than the Eastwoods, and better blood, too, so you need not be afraid. Papa has dealings with the very best. We don’t like to be slighted,” said the beauty, with a gleam of that red light from her beautiful eyes; “and when people put on airs, like your cousin has done, it sets papa’s back up. That was why we went against Sir Geoffrey at the election. But I hope you will come, Mr. Eastwood; papa took such a fancy to you.” “I have just been away from the office for a month. I fear I shall not have leisure again for some time,” said Frederick, feeling that an invitation from Batty was to be resisted, even when conveyed by such lovely lips. “How hideous it must be not to be one’s own master; to have to ask for ‘leave’ like a servant,” cried ’Manda with a laugh; which speech set all Frederick’s nerves ajar, and almost released him from the syren. He withdrew into the shade of the curtains, and drew to him all the succour of his pride. “Yes, it is a pitiful position,” he said, with an angry laugh; “but I may comfort myself that a great many people share it with me. Do you know I am afraid I must leave you. This performance is endless, and rather dull.” “Upon my word!” cried Miss Batty, “you are free-spoken, Mr. Frederick. To tell a lady you are dull when she is doing her best to amuse you!” “Pardon me, I spoke of the performance.” “Oh, I don’t care much for the performance,” said Amanda, with a beaming smile. “I like the lights and the music, and the feeling of being out in the world. But you wouldn’t go off, and leave me--with papa asleep, and no one to talk to?” “I have an engagement--at my club.”