"And you intend remaining in Washington?" he asked.
"Yes. I have had no plans for three years. When first it dawned on me that it would interest me to make plans again, I thought of Washington. I have found a house in Lafayette Square, and I think I shall be established in it, with the assistance of my aunt, who is to live with me, in about three weeks."
"That sounds very agreeable," he remarked.
"I shall hope to make it sufficiently so," she said. "Will you come sometimes to see if my efforts are successful?"
"If you knew how unworthy I am," he responded, "even my abject gratitude for your kindness would not repay you for it."
"Are you so very unworthy?" she was beginning, when her eyes appeared to be caught by some object at the other side of the room.
It was not a particularly interesting object. It was merely the figure of an unprepossessing boy, whose provincial homeliness was rendered doubly impressive by his frightful embarrassment. He had arrived a few moments before, with two more finished youths, whose mother Bertha knew, and, having been basely deserted by them at the outset, had stranded upon the treacherous shores of inexperience as soon as he had shaken hands.
Mrs. Sylvestre's beautiful eyes dwelt upon him a moment with sympathy and interest.
"Will you excuse me," she said to Arbuthnot, "if I go and talk to that boy? Bertha is too busy to attend to him, and he seems to know no one."