Stella rang for cup and saucer and plates, and poured him out some coffee; and he plunged into small talk with the greatest ease, his keen eyes watching every graceful turn of Stella's arm, and glancing now and again at the beautiful face.
It was very good small talk, and amusing. Mr. Adelstone was one of those men who had seen everything. He talked of the London season that was just coming on, to Stella, who sat and listened, half amused, half puzzled, for London was an unknown land to her, and the string of names, noble and fashionable, which fell from his ready tongue, was entirely strange to her.
Then he talked of the coming Academy to Mr. Etheridge, and seemed to know all about the pictures that were going to be exhibited, and which ones would make a stir, and which would fail. Then he addressed himself to Stella again.
"You must pay London a visit, Miss Etheridge; there is no place like it the whole world through—not even Paris or Rome."
Stella smiled.
"It is not very likely that I shall see London for a long time. My uncle does not often go, although it is so near, do you?"
"No, no," he assented, "not often."
"Perhaps you are to be congratulated," said Mr. Adelstone. "With all its charms, I am glad to get away from it."
"You live there?" said Stella.
"Yes," he said, quietly, welcoming the faint look of interest in her eyes. "Yes; I live in chambers, as it is called, in one of the old law inns. I am a lawyer!"