‘You only think so?’
‘I hardly know her, you know. She is my half-sister. Once, when she was a mere baby, I saw her; and not again till a month ago—till I came here. Most likely I shall see more of her now. My father has been instructing me in my duties towards her, and he is perfectly right. If he would but come home and settle down at Wellfield all would be well. It is not good for a girl to live in hotels, with no woman about her whom she really knows, except her maid.’
‘No, indeed. But your sister does not look in the least spoiled by that life.’
‘Because she is so isolated. She never goes amongst the people at these places; she cannot, because my father himself does not. But it is a dull life for her.’
‘How old is she, exactly?’
‘A little more than sixteen.’
‘You must know, though, that she is very lovely now, and that sometime she will be remarkably beautiful.’
‘Avice—will she? She is pale, and her hair—yes, her hair is beautiful, isn’t it?’
‘Mr. Wellfield! your own sister, whom you see daily, and you ask if her hair is beautiful!’
‘Well, it is the fact of her being my own sister, I suppose, whom I see daily, that makes me ask,’ said Jerome, calmly. ‘I am not so—forgetful in all cases. But I was going to say that, though I don’t in the least know when I shall be free again, yet, when I am free, I am going to Cologne, where I have some musical friends. Cologne is not far from Elberthal, and, if you will allow me, Miss Ford’—he hesitated in a manner which his hearer thought decidedly becoming to him—‘I should like exceedingly to come over and visit your atelier, if I may—if it is not too great a favour that I ask.’