6/15 Endymion accepted her remark with magnificent tolerance. "You have hit it precisely." Dorothea stole a glance at her brother. Military and hunt uniforms were _de rigueur_ at these Axcester balls, and a Major of Yeomanry more splendid than Endymion Westcote it would have been hard to find in England. He stood with a hand negligently resting on his left hip-- the word hip,--his right foot advanced, the toe of his polished boot tapping the floor. His smile, indulgent as it hovered over Lady Bateson, descended to this protruded leg and became complacent, as it had a right to be. |