"It may come of its own accord," she whispered, softly. "You may even have an opportunity of earning it."
"I am doing well enough just now," he remarked, "thanks to Mr. Weatherley, but sums of money like that do not fall from the clouds."
They were both silent. She seemed to be listening to the murmur of the stream. His head was lifted to the elm tree, from somewhere among whose leafy recesses a bird was singing.
"One never knows," she said softly. "You yourself have seen and heard of strange things happening within the last few days."
He came back to earth with a little start.
"It is true," he confessed.
"There is life still," she continued, "throbbing sometimes in the dull places, adventures which need only the strong arm and the man's courage. One might come to you, and adventures do not go unrewarded."
"You talk like your brother," he remarked.
"Why not?" she replied. "Andrea and I have much in common. Do you know that sometimes you provoke me a little?"
"I?"