"Denzil has been down often."
"Denzil again," said the stranger with a smile, and perhaps the faintest tone of pique; "you are surely very fond of this Denzil."
"Fond—I love him dearly!"
"A candid admission."
"He is my only brother."
"I am so glad to hear that he is a brother, and not—not——"
"What?"
"A cousin or—friend."
Sybil felt that the conversation was wandering from the picturesque, and now said, a little hastily,
"I must bid you good morning—my way lies there," she added, pointing westward.