“I’ll say the first, with all my heart; but how about the other? You don’t look as if you were having a good time; are you?” and Laurie looked at her with an expression which made her answer, in a whisper⁠—

“No; not just now. Don’t think I’m horrid; I only wanted a little fun, but this sort doesn’t pay, I find, and I’m getting tired of it.”

“Here comes Ned Moffat; what does he want?” said Laurie, knitting his black brows, as if he did not regard his young host in the light of a pleasant addition to the party.

“He put his name down for three dances, and I suppose he’s coming for them. What a bore!” said Meg, assuming a languid air, which amused Laurie immensely.

He did not speak to her again till suppertime, when he saw her drinking champagne with Ned and his friend Fisher, who were behaving “like a pair of fools,” as Laurie said to himself, for he felt a brotherly sort of right to watch over the Marches, and fight their battles whenever a defender was needed.