“He is Rolfe Maxwell—a very interesting young man. Came to Washington recently to try to secure a pension for his mother, whom he is supporting by journalistic work. Unfortunately, he lost his position on a good New York daily, by a long spell of illness, and must now do anything that comes to hand until he can get more reporting to do. He was well recommended to me by a senator for whom he had done some work, and I was very glad to get him to do this job for me. You need not think he will be at all in the way, Edwina, as he will take his meals at home each day.”
He rose, kissed Viola good-bye as usual, and hurried away to his department, while she said regretfully to her aunt:
“I am sorry he is coming. Philip always likes to be entertained in the library.”
“Oh, well, there’s plenty of room elsewhere. It would not be well to hinder your father’s business for a mere whim; besides, the poor young man may stand in need of the money,” replied the kind old lady.
Viola agreed with her and dismissed the subject from her mind; but not so Aunt Edwina, whom a mild curiosity induced to receive Rolfe Maxwell when he made his appearance promptly at ten o’clock.
She remained a few minutes conversing with him, then returned to the dainty morning-room, where she usually sat with Viola.
The beautiful girl glanced up with languid interest, asking:
“Did you like him, auntie?”
“Oh, a very nice young man,” carelessly.
“Handsome?”