"What about Mr. Blake?" said Miss Grant. "Isn't he a neighbour?"
It would have needed a much quicker eye than Mary's to catch the
half-involuntary movement Ellen Harriott made when Blake's name
was mentioned. She flashed a look of enquiry at the heiress that
seemed to say, "What interest do you take in Mr. Blake? What is
he to you?"
Then the long eyelashes shut down over the dark eyes again, and
with an air of indifference she said-"Oh Mr. Blake? Of course I know him. I dance with him sometimes at
the show balls, and all that. I have been out for a ride with him,
too. I think he's nice, but Hugh and Mrs. Gordon won't ask him here
because he belongs to the selectors, and his mother was a Miss
Donohoe. He takes up their cases--and wins them, too. But he never
comes here. He always stays down at the hotel when he comes out
this way."
"I intend to ask him here," said Miss Grant. "He saved my life."
Again the long eyelashes dropped so as to hide the sparkle of the
eyes.
"Of course, if you like to ask him--"
"Do you think he'd come?"
"Yes, I'm sure he would. If you like to write and ask him, Peter
could ride down to Donohoe's to-day with a note."
From which it would seem that one, at any rate, of the Kuryong
household was not wholly indifferent to Mr. Blake.