"I was saying—and thinking—that you are very good-natured to keep a crusty, irritable invalid company on such a delightful morning."
"Did you say all that?" she said, with a soft laugh.
"Well, if I didn't say it, I thought it," he responded. "You must find it dull work, but you are used to sacrificing yourself for others, are you not?" and he glanced at the painter who was at work at a little distance on the beach.
"It is not much of a sacrifice to stay with those one likes," she said, half absently.
The duke looked up at her sharply, and yet with a touch of color on his face.
"Thank you. I am to take it that you rather like me than otherwise, Miss Leslie?"
She blushed, and eyed him with sweet gravity.
"I should be very ungrateful if I did not," she said. And mentally she added, "And how could I help liking you; you are his friend?"
"I see," he said. "Well, it is very kind of you to keep me company. I should have missed my cousin—the duke—very much, if you had not been here. I am afraid mine is dull society after his, and that you miss the pleasant drives and sails."
"They were very pleasant, yes," she admitted, a little confusedly.