"I'm not sure that's kind," smiled Vane. "In some ways, you haven't changed at all; I would have known you anywhere!"
"Nine years is a long time to remember any one."
Vane had seen few women during that period; but he was not a fool, and he recognized that this was no occasion for an attempt at gallantry. There was nothing coquettish in Evelyn's words, nor was there any irony. She had answered in the tranquil, matter-of-fact manner which, as he remembered, usually characterized her.
"It's a little while since you landed, isn't it?" she added.
"A week. I had some business in London, and then I went on to look up
Lucy. She had just gone up to town—to a congress, I believe—and so
I missed her. I shall go up again to see her as soon as she answers
my letter."
"It won't be necessary. She's coming here for a fortnight."
"That's very kind. Whom have I to thank for suggesting it?"
"Does it matter? It was a natural thing to ask your only sister—who is a friend of mine. There is plenty of room, and the place is quiet."
"It didn't used to be. If I remember, your mother generally had it full part of the year."
"Things have changed," said Evelyn quietly.