Nell put the cushion down reluctantly.

"It's a mean shame; you know I can't fight now."

"Though you have your war paint on," said Falconer, looking at her with
a half-sad, half-proud admiration and affection.

"It's not much of a war paint," said Nell, but contentedly enough. "It's
the dress I made for a party at Wolfer House--Dick, you know that the
Wolfers have had to go? Lord Wolfer's brother was ill. I am so sorry!
She would have made me feel less nervous, and rather braver. Yes, I'm
sorry! It's an old dress, and I'm afraid Drake's jewels must feel quite
ashamed of it," and she glanced at the pearls which he had given her a
day or two ago, and which gleamed softly on her white, girlish neck and
arms.

"You hear her complaining, Falconer!" said Dick, with mock sternness and
reproval. "You'd find it hard to believe that I offered to remain at
home and pop my dress suit, that she might buy herself fitting raiment
for this show. Oh, worse than a serpent's tooth, it is to have an
ungrateful sister!"

"I thought it was a new dress," remarked Falconer, still eying it and
the wearer intently.

Nell shook her head, coloring a little, as she said: "No; I wanted to wear this one. I didn't want to appear in a grand frock
as if I were a fashionable lady."