Edgerton let his eyes rest for a moment, outside the silver and crystal-set circle of light, on gold, heavy carving, gilded tapestry and picture, and withdrew his gaze gravely. Men servants swarmed, bothering him; the scent of greenhouse blossoms, forced before their time; the heavy magnificence out of place—all slightly disgusted him, though much of it was about what he had expected of such people. Little Miss Rivett, on his left, dissected her terrapin with the healthy attention of youth and hunger; and presently he turned to look at her with amused but wholly amiable curiosity. He saw a small, plump, dainty maid, with exceedingly clear and bright brown eyes, and a softly brilliant complexion, looking back at him with unconcealed interest. There was a moment’s silence, then they both smiled. "Do you think you’ll like us?" she asked saucily; "or do you hate us already?" "Not the slightest doubt of my liking you, Miss Rivett; but how about your liking us?" "Your cousins are most bewitching and bewildering.... You seem to be nice—are you?" "Very," he said, laughing. "I’m glad you gave me an opportunity of saying so, because otherwise it might not have been perfectly clear to you." "I _am_ rather fastidious," she said. "How well do you dance?" "My grace in that praiseworthy pastime is ursine." "Really?" "Unbearably." "You are very British, aren’t you?" "Do you refer to my little play upon words?" "No, generally; that was merely a touch of local color. Naturally, also, you fishshootridetohoundsandplaypolo; do you?" "Also gawf, dear lady." "Perfectly symmetrical and indistinguishable from others of your kind. I thought so. Crocky, too?" "Certainly, crocky," he admitted; "also no bank account. You may call me m’lud with impunity." "Perhaps you’re not entirely qualified. How do you stand on the heiress question, Mr. Edgerton?" "I can’t qualify there." "Then you’re a sham. Besides, you’re neither clever nor gallant. _I_ am an heiress." "Then I qualify at once as a fortune hunter," he said, laughing, "and I’ll cable for my solicitors." "What _are_ you saying?" asked Mrs. Rivett in her gentle, uncertain voice. "Mother, Mr. Edgerton and I are going to be friends. Perhaps he isn’t sure of it, but I am. Tell him what happens when I am sure of anything." "Dear, perhaps Mr. Edgerton doesn’t quite understand your manner of saying things." "That’s just it; he _does_ understand! He is going to turn out exceedingly nice, mother; watch him!" "Christine! Please be a little less personal and abrupt." They turned, smiling, toward the other end of the table where much laughter sounded. Evidently Diana and Silvette were becoming very popular, and, somehow, it occurred to Edgerton that perhaps this great room had not often resounded with mirth.