Not at all.
Of law and leases?
Still less.
Of what, then?
Why, of the tiny point of a lady's slipper under a white robe, a slipper that tempted him to bend a little lower still and kiss it. Would she feel it, he wondered? Would she chide him if she did? Men kissed the foot of a saint without blame. If the adorable is to be adored and the lovable to be loved, why was not the kissable to be kissed? Besides,—only a slipper!
He was in the hem-of-the-garment stage of his passion, and fancied himself humble in his desire.
"Stretch out thy rod, Cecil!" It was Elinor's voice that broke in on Neville's indecision.
The boy reached forth the stick of ebony tipped with silver which was Baltimore's gift to Mary Brent on her coming out of England. Neville grasped the other end, and smiling at Cecil, with a single upward glance at Elinor bending over him, he said,—