'Why don't you teach her?' said Hester, severely.
Farrell laughed.
'Why I only want to amuse her, poor little soul!' he said, as he put his easel together. 'Why should she take it seriously?'
'She's more intelligence than you think.'
'Has she? What a pity! There are so many intelligent people in the world, and so few pretty ones,'
He spoke with a flippant self-confidence that annoyed his cousin. But she knew very well that she was poorly off in the gifts that were required to scourge him. And there already was the light form of Nelly, on the footbridge over the river. Farrell looked up and saw her coming.
'Extraordinary—the grace of the little thing!' he said, half to himself, half to Hester. 'And she knows nothing about it—or seems to.'
'Do you imagine that her husband hasn't told her?' Hester's tone was mocking.
Farrell looked up in wonder. 'Sarratt? of course he has—so far as he has eyes to see it. But he has no idea how remarkable it is.'
'What? His wife's beauty? Nonsense!'