"Yes, we've got sherry, and port wine, and Gladstone;" and away she went to get him such refreshment as the villa possessed.

He drank his sherry and soda-water, and lit his pipe, and lay there on the lawn, as though he were quite at home; and Clarissa ministered to him,—unconscious of any evil. He had been brought up with them on terms of such close intimacy that she was entitled to regard him as a brother,—almost as a brother,—if only she were able so to regard him. It was her practice to call him Ralph, and her own name was as common to him as though she were in truth his sister. "And what do you think of this new cousin?" he asked.

He drank his sherry and soda-water, and lit his pipe, and
lay there on the lawn, as though he were quite at home …
Click to [ENLARGE]

"I can think nothing as yet;—but I mean to like her."

"I mean to hate her furiously," said Ralph.

"That is nonsense. She will be nothing to you. You needn't even see her unless you please. But, Ralph, do put your jacket on. I'm sure you'll catch cold." And she went down, and hooked his jacket for him out of the boat, and put it over his shoulders. "I won't have you throw it off," she said; "if you come here you must do as you're told."

"You needn't have knocked the pipe out of my mouth all the same. What is she like, I wonder?"

"Very,—very beautiful, I'm told."

"A kind of tropical Venus,—all eyes, and dark skin, and black hair, and strong passions, and apt to murder people;—but at the same time so lazy that she is never to do anything either for herself or anybody else;—wouldn't fetch a fellow's jacket for him, let him be catching cold ever so fast."

"She wouldn't fetch yours, I dare say."