"No, but your remarks seemed to point in that direction. Now I like her very much. Indeed, to return your confidence with another, Julian"—she looked up with a smile—"I was thinking, if Bobby approves, of asking her to spend the winter with me.
"I knew that," he returned, calmly, "and I approve of the plan highly. It will be a pleasant change for her, as she doesn't seem exactly satisfied with her surroundings; and for you it will be a—a"—he paused, apparently in search of an appropriate word—"an interesting study," he concluded.
She looked up in surprise. "A—a study," she repeated.
"Yes, a study—to see what a girl like that, with the somewhat odd antecedents that you told me about once, and some contradictory characteristics that I think she has—to see how she develops in the storm and stress of a New York season. I—I think you will find it quite interesting, Eleanor."
"I'm glad you think so," she returned, softly. "But—how about yourself, Julian? Couldn't you—just on general psychological principles—condescend to take an interest in it, too?"
A shadow fell on Gerard's face. "Oh, for myself," he said, carelessly, "I'm not easily interested in things nowadays, and above all not—thank Heaven! not in women." He paused. "All the same," he added, "you have the best wishes—for the success of your protégée." And with this he bade her good-night, and left her.
She sat for a long time without moving, and watched the fire flicker and die away.
"On the whole, I'm rather glad her hair is red—in certain lights at least," she observed at last, apparently to the smouldering embers. "It—it makes the study still more interesting."