"That was possible. My parents lived abroad for years. My father is on the Continent now. I and the two little brothers before me were born in Belgium."
"Oh! I suppose that must be it," said Clara slowly. "Valli talks at random sometimes."
"Signor Valli talks very much at random if he ever said my mother was a foreigner. By the way, do you know he is to be here to-morrow evening?"
"Yes; so I hear."
"You do not hear it with rapture, apparently."
"No; I do not like him very much."
"He likes you very much, if appearances may be trusted," said May laughingly.
"He is always making love to me after his fashion. That is why I do not like him."
Clara spoke gravely, but with her habitual serenity. There was something in her manner which seemed to be akin to her voice; something clear, but not cold: a crystal with the sun in it.
"Oh, that is hideous, isn't it?" cried May, with eager fellow-feeling. "When people want to marry you, and you shudder at the bare idea of marrying them."