"What a strange girl you are," she said, smoothing the silky hair. "What am I to say to that? Well—yes, of course. And for Lenore, too," she added, with a touch of pride.
"Yes, for Lady Lenore also," said Stella, and her eyes went back to the Madonna.
"We are all so anxious to see Leycester married," went on Lady Lilian, with a smile. "They say he is—so wild, I think it is, they say! Ah, they do not see him as I see him. Do you think he is wild?"
Stella paled. The strain was great, her heart was beating with suppressed throbs. The gentle girl did not know how she was torturing her with such questions.
"I?" she murmured. "I do not know. I cannot tell. How should I? I scarcely know your brother."
"Ah, no, I forget," said Lady Lilian. "To me it seems as if we had known each other so long, and we only met the other morning for a few minutes. How is it? Do you possess some charm, and did you conceal it in the flowers you gave me, so that I am under a spell, Stella? That is your name, isn't it? It is a beautiful name; are you angry with me for calling you by it?"
"Angry! No!" said Stella, putting up her warm, firm hand, and touching the thin white one resting on her hair. "No, I like you to call me by it."
"And you will call me by mine—Lilian?"
"If you wish it," said Stella. "Yes, I will."
"And we shall be great friends. See, I have kept your flowers quite cool and fresh," and she pointed to a vase in which the primroses stood at the other end of the room. "I love wild flowers. They are Heaven's very own, are they not? No human hand does anything for them, or helps them to grow."