“I’ve been asked to meet their niece, a Miss Eversleigh, whom they’ve invited to stop with them. Funny, by the way, that her name should be the same as yours.”
“Not particularly,” said Julian shortly; “she’s my cousin. My cousin Eva.”
This was startling. There was a pause. Presently Julian said, “Do you know, Jimmy, that if I were not the philosopher I am, I’d curse this awful indolence of mine.”
I saw it in a flash, and went up to him holding out my hand in sympathy. “Thanks,” he said, gripping it; “but don’t speak of it. I couldn’t endure that, even from you, James. It’s too hard for talking. If it was only myself whose life I’d spoilt—if it was only myself——”
He broke off. And then, “Hers too. She’s true as steel.”
I had heard no more bitter cry than that.
I began to busy myself amongst some manuscripts to give Julian time to compose himself. And so an hour passed. At a quarter past four I got up to go out. Julian lay recumbent. It seemed terrible to leave him brooding alone over his misery.
A closer inspection, however, showed me he was asleep.
Meanwhile, Eva Eversleigh and I became firm friends. Of her person I need simply say that it was the most beautiful that Nature ever created. Pressed as to details, I should add that she was petite, dark, had brown hair, very big blue eyes, a retroussé nose, and a rather wide mouth.