"Who was the younger and better looking of those two men; the one with violets in his coat, like yours?"
"It was my brother," he answered simply. "I am afraid, too, that he recognised you."
"So far as I am concerned, that is of no consequence at all," she answered lightly.
He turned away with a sudden sinking of the heart. He knew, too well, that her carelessness was not assumed. How was he to interpret it?
Their drive was finished in silence, and they pulled up before a handsome, though somewhat sombre-looking house in a back street.
"My rooms are here," she remarked.
He stepped on to the pavement, and assisted her to alight. The thought of leaving her so abruptly was painful to him, and yet he dreaded to hear her invite him to go in with her; nevertheless, she did so.
"If you are not in a hurry, perhaps you will come in, and let me give you a cup of tea," she said, looking him full in the face.
His heart sank. What was he to think now? And yet he was absurdly glad that he was not to leave her.
"Do you mean it?" he asked.