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A DANGEROUS FLIRTATION
Or
Did Ida May Sin?
by
MISS LAURA JEAN LIBBEY
The
Arthur Westbrook
Company
Cleveland, Ohio, U. S. A.
CONTENTS.
PAGE.
Chapter I 5
Chapter II 9
Chapter III 13
Chapter IV 17
Chapter V 20
Chapter VI 24
Chapter VII 27
Chapter VIII 32
Chapter IX 37
Chapter X 40
Chapter XI 45
Chapter XII 47
Chapter XIII 54
Chapter XIV 59
Chapter XV 65
Chapter XVI 71
Chapter XVII 74
Chapter XVIII 79
Chapter XIX 87
Chapter XX 90
Chapter XXI 94
Chapter XXII 97
Chapter XXIII 99
Chapter XXIV 103
Chapter XXV 107
Chapter XXVI 111
Chapter XXVII 115
Chapter XXVIII 121
Chapter XXIX 126
Chapter XXX 129
Chapter XXXI 134
Chapter XXXII 137
Chapter XXXIII 141
Chapter XXXIV 145
Chapter XXXV 150
Chapter XXXVI 154
Chapter XXXVII 159
Chapter XXXVIII 160
Chapter XXXIX 164
Chapter XL 169
Chapter XLI 174
Chapter XLII 177
Chapter XLIII 182
Chapter XLIV 187
Chapter XLV 190
Chapter XLVI 193
Chapter XLVII 196
Chapter XLVIII 200
Chapter XLIX 204
Chapter L 210
Chapter LI 213
Chapter LII 217
Chapter LIII 222
Chapter LIV 227
Chapter LV 230
Chapter LVI 235
Chapter LVII 240
Chapter LVIII 241
Chapter LIX 244
Chapter LX 248
A DANGEROUS FLIRTATION;
OR
DID IDA MAY SIN?
CHAPTER I.
Three young girls, as fair as youth and beauty could make them, stood
with arms twined about one another on the sands of Newport one hot
August afternoon.
Neither of the trio could have been over seventeen. All three were
dressed in white, and looked as delightfully cool, sweet and airy, with
their floating white ribbons and wind-blown curls, as summer maidens
can possibly look.
"If I were an artist, I would immortalize that glorious scene," cried
Lily Ryder, her blue eyes sparkling with the fire of enthusiasm.
"And if I were an artist, I would paint _you_," cried a handsome,
fair-haired young man _sotto voce_, who had stopped short in his stroll
along the sands with his friend, to admire the three lovely young
girls, feeling sure that his keen scrutiny would not be observed, they
were gazing so intently out to sea.
"Who are they, Ravenswood?" he asked, eagerly, turning to his
companion. "You know everyone at Newport worth knowing, of course--'a
golden key throws open all doors.'"
"Oh, of course," echoed Philip Ravenswood, with the slow drawl habitual
to him. "They are called at Newport 'The Three Graces.' The blonde
fairy to the right is Lily Ryder, an ex-governor's daughter. The
bewitching girl in the center of the group is Miss Hildegarde Cramer,
a banker's daughter; and, by the way, she's one of the jolliest girls
that ever dazzled a fellow's wits as well as his eyes--looks more
bewitching every time you see her."
"But who is the other young girl?" interrupted his companion,
impatiently. "According to my ideas of feminine loveliness, she's far
the prettiest of the three."
"Hold on, my dear Royal Ainsley, lest you provoke a duel here and now.
Remember, that trio contains the peerless Hildegarde," laughed Philip
Ravenswood, relighting a fresh Havana.
"All allowance made for difference of opinion," smiled Ainsley; "but
really, Phil, who is the dark-eyed beauty this way?"
Little dreaming of what would come of those few idly spoken words,
Philip Ravenswood answered, carelessly:
"Her name is Ida May. She's the only living relative of the Mays of
Boston, I understand. I do not know the Mays personally, but know them
well by reputation. They are fabulously rich, it is generally believed."
"Suppose you introduce me to the Three Graces," said Royal Ainsley,
banteringly.
His companion flushed, and looked a trifle uncomfortable.
"At another time, my dear fellow," he said, answering Ainsley's
question after a moment's pause. "Let the girls enjoy their rhapsodies
over the sunset in peace this time. We really haven't time just now.
The fellows are waiting for us at the club, you know."
But Ainsley refused to go on; yet he did it in such a gay, off-hand,
rollicking, fun-loving fashion, his friend did not see the fixed
purpose in his action.
He was quite sure that if they stood there long enough they could not
help attracting the attention of the pretty maidens, and there was
no time like the present to meet them. In this surmise, he was quite
correct. Attracted by the sound of voices almost behind them, Miss
Ryder glanced around.
"Hildegarde--Ida!" she exclaimed, in a flutter of delighted surprise,
"why, here is Mr. Ravenswood!"
She stopped short, for just then she observed that the handsome young
gentleman in the white linen suit, standing a little apart from Mr.
Ravenswood, was with him.
It was too late to beat a retreat then, for he had been discovered. He
was certainly in for it, and there was no help for it but to bring his
companion forward with the best possible grace and present him to the
young ladies.
Ainsley bowed low in his most charming manner, raising, with a smile,
his white straw hat from his fair, clustering hair, and Philip
Ravenswood could see, with consternation, the apparent admiration for
his friend on all three girlish faces, including Hildegarde, whom he
had believed to be quite smitten with himself.
Royal Ainsley made the most of that next half hour on the sands. He was
so brilliant, so witty, so clever, he fairly astonished his friend,
used as he was to his gay _bon-mots_ and to see him the life of all
the affairs at the club.
They chatted brightly enough, until Hildegarde exclaimed, with a little
cry:
"Why, there is some bell striking seven! We have been here over an
hour. We must get back to the hotel, girls, or we will never be dressed
for dinner. Won't you stroll back that way with us?" she added, with a
dazzling smile to both of the young gentlemen.
"I think not," replied Ainsley, quickly, taking it upon himself to
answer for his friend. "We have an engagement, and have barely time to
save ourselves from being the annoying cause of giving our friends a
cold dinner."
"We hope to see you both soon again," said Lily, with another blush.
"We do, indeed!" echoed Hildegarde, archly. But the girl with the
velvet pansy eyes made no audible remark, though her crimson lips
parted, then shut quickly again.
The next moment the two gentlemen were gone, and the three young girls
retraced their steps slowly hotelward along the beach. They had a much
pleasanter subject to discuss now than the sunset.
"Isn't the new-comer handsome?" remarked Lily.
"Splendid! but not quite as Phil, though."
Again they both asked together:
"What say _you_, Ida?"
The girl with cheeks like a damask rose and velvety pansy eyes blushed
to the roots of her jetty curls.
"He is like the hero of a novel. I have never seen any one so handsome
before--so fair, so smiling--so--so--delightful," she answered.
"Ida May's heart has been hit by the first shot of those arrows of blue
eyes," laughed Lily, mockingly. "I knew when she declared that, come
what would, she would not fall in love with any young man she met at
Newport, she was more than likely to meet her fate."