"I'm afraid I don't quite understand."
"Well, if there's any chance of you're doing as I ask you, I'll explain," said Sophie; "but, of course, I don't want to talk about my private affairs if it's no good. There's nothing in the reason for pretending that you need object to," she added boldly. "What is the reason you can't come and live? Got a sick mother, or an old aunt, or something?"
The other hesitated for a moment, then her lovely lilac eyes took on a curious expression.
"Yes, I have an aunt," was her odd answer, but Sophie was no acute reader of eyes or odd answers.
"More fool you," said she cheerfully. "I'd like to see the old aunt who'd get me to support her. Well, all right now, if you think you'll come I'll tell you the whole thing."
"Yes, I think I'll come. But as I have said, it will only be for a few hours daily; sometimes in the mornings, more often in the afternoons."
"That'll do all right. Have a whiskey-and-soda and we'll talk it over."
"I don't care for whiskey, thank you," said "Lilac Eyes"; "but I am very thirsty, and will have some soda, if I may."
Sophie shouted to Piccanin to bring another glass, and pushed the soda and lemons across the table.
"Make yourself at home," said she affably; "but I hope you're not one of those asses who don't drink!"