Rose looked at her with pursed-up lips.
"Kate is in one of her high and mighty moods," she thought.

"I don't pretend to understand her.

If she is engaged in England, what difference can it make to her whether I flirt with this Scotch baronet or not?
What do I care for her airs?
I'll flirt if I please." She sat still, twisting her glossy ringlets round her fingers, while Kate played on with that unsmiling face.

Half an hour, and the dinner-bell rang.

Ten minutes after, Captain Danton and his guest stood before them.
For a moment Rose did not see him; her father's large proportions, as he took her in his arms and kissed her, overshadowed every one else.
"How my little Rose has grown!" the Captain said looking at her fondly; "as plump as a partridge and as Rosy as her name.