"I hoped we might go on with our talk," he said. He still addressed her somewhat as one addresses a friendly child; "I wanted to hear the end of that story about the Hungarian student."
"He died, in Davos, poor boy," said Miss Woodruff, looking down at him from her slightly higher place, while Louise stood by dejectedly. "He wrote to my guardian and we went to him there and she played to him. It made him so happy. We were with him till he died."
"Shall I see you again?" Gregory asked. "Will you be here for any time? Are you staying in London?"
"My guardian goes to America next week—did you not know?—with Miss Scrotton."
"Oh yes, Eleanor told me. And you're not going too? You're not to see America yet?"
"No; not this time. I go to Cornwall."
"You are to be alone with Mrs. Talcott all the winter?"
"You know Mrs. Talcott?" Miss Woodruff exclaimed in pleased astonishment.
"No; I don't know her; Eleanor told me about her, too."
"It is not being alone," said Miss Woodruff. "She and I have a most happy time together. I thought it strange that you should know Mrs. Talcott. I never met anyone who knew her unless they knew my guardian very well."