“I don’t study,” returned Kingcote, rather vacantly, looking at the pictured glass of the window.
Isabel closed the window and passed to the next door.
“I am so sorry Miss Warren is not at home,” she said. “I quite thought she would be, but at the last moment she decided to go to London to see something in the South Kensington Museum—oh, Schliemann’s discoveries!”
“Does Miss Warren read Greek and Latin?”
“Latin she does, and is just beginning Greek. She’s a wonderfully clever girl, but it’s difficult to get her to talk. I am sure you will find her interesting when you have had opportunities of talking with her.”
They were now in an ordinary hot-house. Isabel pointed out the plants which interested her.
“I have just had a visit from my lawyer,” she said, as she plucked away some dead leaves. “What tedious people lawyers are, and so dreadfully indispensable.”
“I suppose I passed him on the drive.”
“No doubt. But I mustn’t speak ill of the good man; he came all the way from London to save me a journey.”
They moved about for a few moments in silence.