“She gave a charming impromptu laugh. ‘I wasn’t quite a nun—I don’t want to make you believe that! Only I was brought up in a convent near Paris; educated there, as many young ladies are. I was there seven years—wasn’t that long? and I only got out a little while ago.’
“‘It must have been awfully dull.’
“‘Oh, I liked it in a sort of way; they were very kind to me there; but then I didn’t know how pleasant it was outside! You would never believe how delightful the world is, if you were only told about it. My papa used to tell me about it sometimes; and he is a great traveller—he has been everywhere. But I didn’t realise it until I saw for myself.’
“‘Have you been to America since leaving the Convent?’
“‘Oh yes. I went to New York, and saw my cousins there. Papa went with me, but he came back to Paris first, and I followed later. I met him again in Paris only a week ago. He will be surprised to see you here, Mr. Gainsborough. What a funny way you have chosen to go from Paris to Rome—through Dresden!’
“‘Yes, I—but, by-the-bye, how did you know I was going to Rome? and why will your papa be surprised——?’
“Again she laughed, and regarded me with so delightfully mischievous a glance that I felt convinced I must in some way be making a fool of myself. What did it all mean? I bit my lip, and the colour came into my face from provocation at my own evident thick-headedness.
“‘If you had only waited a little longer in Paris,’ she continued, still smiling enigmatically, ‘perhaps we might have met in a more regular way, and perhaps, then, you would have let me have had a look at your—diamonds!’
“My diamonds! That explained the mystery in a flash.
“‘Is your father Mr. Birchmore?’