Instinctively the three women within the room grow silent and draw back a little.

Barely in time; a tiny, vivacious figure springs into view, followed by a young man of rather stout proportions.
"No, no, no!" cries the little figure, "you couldn't beat me.

I bet you anything you like you couldn't.

You may play me again if you will, and then," smiling and shaking her head at him, "we shall see!" The windows are open and every word can be heard.
"Your future daughter-in-law," says Mrs.Bethune, in a low voice, nodding her beautiful head at Lady Rylton.
"Oh, it is detestable! A hoyden--a mere _hoyden_," says Lady Rylton pettishly.

"Look at her hair!" And, indeed, it must be confessed that the hoyden's hair is not all it ought to be.