"Lesley Brooke? She is a handsome girl," said Mrs. Romaine, with some reserve of manner.
"Nothing more?"
His sister waited until the servant had left the room before she replied.
"I wish you would be discreet, Oliver. My servants are often at the Brookes' with messages. I should not like them to repeat what you were saying."
Oliver shrugged his shoulders with the air of a man to whom women's caprices are incomprehensible. But he was silent until dessert was placed upon the table, and Mrs. Romaine's neat parlor-maid had disappeared.
"Now," he said, "you can disburthen your mind in peace."
"Oliver," said Mrs. Romaine, abruptly. "I want you to make Miss Brooke's acquaintance as soon as you can. I don't understand her, and I think that you can help me."
"As how!"
"Oh, don't be silly. You always get on with girls, and you can tell me what you think of her."
Oliver raised his eyebrows, took a peach from the dish before him, and began to peel it with great deliberation.