"I am glad you have come over, Lesbia," he said admiringly, as they sat in a quiet corner of the room far from the chattering guests. "Hale did not tell me that you were so pretty. By the way, you must not mind my calling you by your Christian name. I knew you when you were but a baby, and it is my privilege, as your elderly cousin, to be familiar."
"I am very glad you are familiar," said the girl, lifting her eyes to the strong, kind face, "and I cannot forget that you sent me that fifty pounds so kindly, without asking what I wished to do with it."
"Pooh! pooh! That is nothing, child. Who should help you but I? Whenever you are in want of money write to me, and you will receive a cheque by return of post. I am your cousin, you know. And a very bad cousin at that," added Charvington, with sudden energy. "I should have had you here long ago. You must have led a dull life in Marlow."
"No," answered Lesbia quietly, "there was always George."
"Who is George?"
"The man I love."
"Oh!" Charvington's eyes twinkled more than ever; "you are engaged."
"Yes and no."
The man looked puzzled. "What do you mean? I don't like riddles."
Lesbia sighed. "It is a riddle, and a very painful one. For that reason I accepted your kind invitation and came over. I want to tell you what I did with the fifty pounds, and also I wish to ask your advice."