The suddenness of the question took away the young man's breath. It was evident that her brother had not confided in Mrs. Marshall.
"I have no relatives in the world, madam," he said.
"You remind me of someone," she went on, fixing her black eyes on him somewhat fiercely. "Do you sing?"
"Not at all," he answered, wondering more than ever at the oddity of this second question. "I have no voice."
"Humph!" muttered the lady, and turned away. "I must be mistaken."
"You are certainly mistaken, madam, in crediting me with any relatives. I am an orphan, a waif, a stranger in the land----"
"And a great violinist," finished Ruth, glancing defiantly at her aunt. "That surely ought to cover all deficiencies, Mr. Webster."
"No doubt it does--to musical people," said the elder lady, coldly.
The young man felt nettled, and more puzzled than ever at her manner, and he was about to ask a leading question when Miss Jennie Brawn, accompanied by Mr. Heron, entered.
"Oh, here you are," cried Ruth, including both in one gay greeting. "You are late."