Mr. Wycherly's hand still tingled with the touch of those soft unaccustomed girlish lips, nevertheless he held it out to her, saying, "That will be very kind of you."
Jane-Anne placed her own within it and she did not attempt to kiss Mr. Wycherly's hand again, but she looked at him as though she would read his very soul and asked: "Sir, have you ever heard anything about a place called Greece?"
Mr. Wycherly laughed. "For a considerable portion of my life," he replied, "I have heard about little else."
"Will you tell me things sometimes, sir? Will you?"
"I shall be most happy," said Mr. Wycherly. "You certainly ought to know as much as possible about your father's country—and there is so much to know."
"I have another name," she said suddenly and with apparent irrelevance. "Shall I tell it you? Very few people know."
"Do you mean Stavrides?" Mr. Wycherly asked.
"No, sir, not that; I have another Christian name. Allegra; don't you think it's very pretty?"
"Very," said Mr. Wycherly; "it is a beautiful name, but it isn't Greek."
"I'm called after somebody's daughter that died. I don't know who she was; mother knew. My daddie liked the name. I daresay I shall find out some day all about her."