"Never mind," cried Frank. He felt as if a wound in his own breast had been touched.
Edgar was astonished. He was not accustomed to display his own feelings, and did not know what to make of a man who did. But he did not finish his sentence.
"If she does not go out," he observed instead, "she may be equally unwilling to receive visitors."
"Oh, no," the other eagerly broke in; "people visit there just the same. Only they say she never likes to hear anything about her peculiarity. She wishes it accepted without words."
It was now Edgar's turn to ask a question.
"You say she lives there alone? You mean with servants, doubtless?"
"Oh, yes, she has a servant. But I did not say she lived there alone; I said she and her sister."
Edgar was silent.
"Her sister does not go out, either, they say."
"No? What does it all mean?"