“Poor old girl,” said Rupert, patting Annie on her shoulder; “you always were affectionate. You’ve got me out of more than one scrape, and you’ll get me out of this one; won’t you, kiddy? Now, where can we go for a real good talk?”
“I don’t know this part of London,” replied Annie.
“Well, it is like any other part, I suppose. We must talk in the streets; but it’s abominably hard. What is your address, Annie? Where are you staying?”
“I am just going to spend a week with Mrs. Acheson. She lives in No. 30 in this square—Newbolt Square it is called.”
“No. 30 Newbolt Square; then here we are. I’ll come and see you; nothing more natural.”
“But, Rupert, you must not—it would be most dangerous.”
“Why should it be dangerous? Why should not a bona-fide brother go to see his only sister? You are my sister, Annie.”
“And I glory in the fact,” said Annie. “Whatever you do, I shall always feel glad that I belong to you. You will always be the darling of my heart; but oh, Rupert, if Leslie finds out that you have broken your word, it is in her to be very hard. She is hard already. I never knew anyone so changed. I live in constant terror of her. Do you know what happened only to-day?”
“No, Annie; and what is more, I don’t want to know. I am too full of my own affairs to be bothered by your minor troubles.”
“That is so like you, Rupert. I am afraid you are growing terribly selfish.”