“Lodgings! I did not know there were such things to be had. Don’t you find it rather—rather—slow?”
“We must cut our coat according to our cloth. We cannot afford grand quarters.” (I saw his eyes fixed momentarily on my, so to speak, “coat” of filmy lace and satin.) “The doctors ordered my stepmother out of London to some dry, bracing climate. Of course, we should have preferred Biarritz, or Nice; but—well, here we are at Stonebrook instead, and it suits Emma pretty well.”
“You have seen my mother, of course?”
“Oh yes, she has been to call on us.” I was on the eve of adding—and we are to dine with you en famille on Christmas Day; but something inexplicable restrained me.
“She has only lately returned home, and I hope we shall often see you and Mrs. Hayes?”
I made no answer. I did not think his wish was at all likely to be realized.
“By the way, you saw Miss Chalgrove. Do you know that you are curiously alike in appearance—only you are much the taller of the two? The resemblance struck me the first time I saw you; you might be sisters, or, at any rate cousins.”
“I have no sisters or cousins.”