"You seem to be very much to him," said Robert Carlton, jealously enough at heart, as he looked for once into the fine, kind, enthusiastic eyes of Gwynneth; but they fell embarrassed, and his own were quick enough to wander back to the boy.
"I have been more or less alone since last autumn," said Gwynneth. "Georgie has been as much to me as I can possibly have been to him."
"But he lives at the Flint House, does he not? I—I gathered he was a grandchild of the Musks."
"So he is."
"Are they bringing him up?"
"Yes."
"Kindly?"
"Oh, yes—kindly. But——"
"Are they fond of him?"
"Touchingly so; but, of course, they are two old people."