"Papa brought you up, Neil? I never knew that. I thought he met you at some house in London, and asked you here because he is so fond of music."
The young man frowned and tugged at his moustache. His colour changed. "I should not have told you," he said, in a low voice, "but my tongue runs away with me. We have often talked of my early life."
"Let me see," said Miss Cass, gravely mischievous. "I think you did say something about having been brought up in the South of England."
"At Bognor," he explained. "An old woman, Mrs. Jent, looked after me there. When it became apparent that I had musical talent your father had me taught on the Continent. I appeared first in America, where I was trained under Durand, the great violinist. I made a success and returned to London; then----"
"Then he brought you down here a year ago, and in six months we fell in love with one another, and----"
"I loved you from the first," he cried.
"How rash!" remarked the girl, pursing her mouth demurely. "But we will say nothing about that. We love now, that is sufficient. But tell me how it was my father first came on the scene of your life? I know much that you have told me: but my father--that is something new."
"I can remember him ever since I was a young child--from the age of ten."
"Oh then he did not come to you before that?"
Webster paused, then turning towards her made an extraordinary speech. "I don't know. I can't recollect my life before that."