‘But why didn’t she tell you so at first?’
‘That’s what I can’t understand. She says she was afraid I might mention it; but I don’t believe that’s the real reason.’
Nancy’s questioning elicited all that was to be learnt from her brother, little more than she had heard already; the same story of a disagreement between Mrs. Damerel and their father, of long absences from England, and a revival of interest in her relatives, following upon Mrs. Damerel’s widowhood.
‘She would be glad to see you, if you liked. But I doubt whether you would get on very well.’
‘Why?’
‘She doesn’t care about the same things that you do. She’s a woman of society, you know.’
‘But if she’s mother’s sister. Yes, I should like to know her.’ Nancy spoke with increasing earnestness. ‘It makes everything quite different. I must see her.’
‘Well, as I said, she’s quite willing. But you remember that I’m supposed not to have spoken about her at all. I should have to get her to send you a message, or something of that kind. Of course, we have often talked about you.’
‘I can’t form an idea of her,’ said Nancy impatiently. ‘Is she good? Is she really kind? Couldn’t you get her portrait to show me?’
‘I should be afraid to ask, unless she had given me leave to speak to you.’