The contrast between the extraordinarily musical inflexions of her tones and their rather curt, businesslike utterances almost amused Julian.
He remembered Fuller's complacent recommendation, "Hard as nails, I should think," and surmised that Miss Marchrose had addressed him with the same abrupt, impersonal manner.
Unlike the majority of women, she seldom smiled. When she did so—and presently Julian noticed that Mark Easter could elicit that quick, soft change of expression more often than anyone else—it altered the character of her face very much, and made her look much younger, and rather appealing.
Her powers of organisation were admirable and, as Mark had said, she was ready to concentrate her whole energies upon her work, indifferent, apparently, to the after-office hours which constituted the whole reality of life for those who only lived through the day's business in order to attain their freedom at the end of it.
"I hope you have found comfortable accommodation in Culmouth," Sir Julian said to her.
"Yes, thank you."
Miss Marchrose appeared so little expectant of any further interest in her welfare that Julian almost wondered whether her definition of officiousness might not prove to coincide with his own.
A month after her arrival, however, Mark Easter told the Rossiters that Miss Marchrose was lodging at a farm outside Culmouth, nearly half an hour's walk from the College.
"It wouldn't be far for her to come over here, if you thought of asking her, Lady Rossiter," said Mark. "I'm afraid she must be rather lonely, for she knows no one down here."
"I wonder why she came here," Edna remarked.