"You have some very rare flowers there, Lady Studleigh," he said—"white blossoms with golden bells; it is an exotic. Is it Indian or Italian?"
She looked at him with a frank smile.
"I am very ignorant," she said. "I love flowers very dearly, but I never made them a study. Long Latin names frighten me."
"Yet it is a beautiful study," he said.
She laughed again.
"I believe, honestly," she said, "that if I knew, for instance, the Latin and Greek name of this lovely flower, with its whole history, I should not enjoy it half as much as I do now. That is a mystery to me."
"Do you like mysteries?" he asked, quickly.
"I can hardly tell; I think I should if I had one."
He looked into the very depths of her eyes—they were as clear and open as the day.
"You are too frank to care for mystery," he said.