Marcella was watching her brother closely, and with a curious smile.
Janet remained for another hour. No reference was made to the long rupture of intercourse between her family and these relatives. Christian learnt that his uncle was still hale, and that Janet's four sisters all lived, obviously unmarried. To-day he was disposed to be almost affectionate with anyone who showed him a friendly face: he expressed grief that his cousin must leave for Twybridge early in the morning.
'Whenever you pass through the Midlands,' was Janet's indirect reply, addressed to Marcella, 'try to stop at Kingsmill.'
And a few minutes after that she took her leave. There lingered behind her that peculiar fragrance of modern womanhood, refreshing, inspiriting, which is so entirely different from the merely feminine perfume, however exquisite.
'What a surprising visit!' was Christian's exclamation, when he and his sister were alone. 'How did she find us?'
'Directory, I suppose.'
'A lady doctor!' he mused.
'And a very capable one, I fancy,' said Marcella. 'We had nearly an hour's talk before you came. But she won't be able to stand the work. There'll be another breakdown before long.'
'Has she a large practice, then?'
'Not very large, perhaps; but she studies as well. I never dreamt of Janet becoming so interesting a person.'