Now, perhaps
it had come.
Ena had been lying down after luncheon. She had given herself this
little rest because she knew that Raygan was going to play poker in
the smoking-room. She had learned bridge--though cards bored her--just
as she had learned tennis and golf and all sorts of eccentric dances,
in order to be popular, to be in the swim, to do just what the
fashionable people were doing--the people at the top, where she wanted
to arrive.
But she could not play poker! And if she could, it would have been
impossible to go with Lord Raygan into the smoking-room. Luckily no
other girl would be there, so Ena resigned herself to the loss of
valuable time on her last day.
"Why, yes," Peter answered. "I believe you _are_ sure to! It won't be
a hard favour to do, Sis. It's only to let me introduce a girl, a very
nice girl, and then to be kind and help her if she needs it."
Ena laughed. "Is that all? I guess--I mean, I fancy--I can promise
that. Girls don't need much help nowadays Who is she? Have I seen
her?"
"No. You haven't seen her."
"Is she pretty?" Peter had expected that question. Ena, and all the
other girls he knew, invariably asked it.
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