CHAPTER XVI.
“Dr. Grey, who is that beautiful girl to whom Muriel introduced me this morning? I was so absorbed in admiration of her face that I lost her name.”
As he spoke, Mr. Gerard Granville struck the ashes from his cigar, and walked up to the table where Dr. Grey was sealing some letters.
“Her name is Salome Owen, and she is my sister’s adopted child.”
“What is her age, if I may be pardoned such impertinent queries?”
“I believe she has entered her eighteenth year.”
“She is a regal beauty, and shows proud blood as plainly as any princess.”
“Take care, Granville; imagination has cantered away with your penetration. Salome’s family were coarse and common, though doubtless honest people. Her father was a drunken miller, who died in an attack of delirium tremens, and left his children as a legacy to the county. I merely mention these deplorable facts to show you that your boasted penetration is not entirely infallible.”
“Miller or millionaire,—the girl would grace any court in Europe, and only lacks a dash of aplomb to make her irresistible. I have seen few faces that attracted and interested me so powerfully.”