She rose with the words, balancing herself with a grace as finished as his own, and threw him a dazzling smile of gratitude. Scott, from his post of observation on the bank, decided that she certainly was beautiful. Her face was almost faultless. And yet it seemed to him that there was infinitely more of witchery in the face that had laughed from the window a few minutes before. Almost unconsciously he was waiting to see the owner of that face emerge.
He watched the inevitable exchange of commonplaces between his brother and the beautiful Miss de Vigne whose graciousness plainly indicated her willingness for a nearer acquaintance, and presently he saw them move away side by side.
"What did I tell you?" said Billy's voice at his shoulder. "But you might have said that chap belonged to you. How was I to know?"
"Oh, quite so," said Scott. "Pray don't apologize! He doesn't belong to me either. It is I who belong to him."
Billy's green eyes twinkled appreciatively. "You're his brother, aren't you?"
Scott looked at him. "Now how on earth did you know that?"
He looked back with his frank, engaging grin. "Oh, there's the same hang about you. I can't tell you what it is. Dinah would know directly. You'd better ask her."
"I don't happen to have the pleasure of your sister's acquaintance," observed Scott, with his quiet smile.
"Oh, I'll soon introduce you if that's what you want," said Billy. "Come along! There she is now, just crossing the road. By the way, I don't think you told me your name."
"My name is Studley—Scott Studley, Stumpy to my friends," said Scott, in his whimsical, rather weary fashion.