She was about his height, he being short and fat. One day, if appearances were not misleading, she also would be plump. Already she had something of her father's rubicund countenance; her cheeks were red, even a trifle blotchy. She had dark hair and eyes, both her mouth and nose were a little too big. Yet he did not find her disagreeable to look at. On the contrary, there was something about her which appealed to him, just as he was conscious that there was something about him which appealed to her. Where a girl was concerned it was strange how some subtle instinct told him these things. He was moved to audacity.
"If you're my cousin, oughtn't I to kiss you?"
Her eyes lit up. Her lips parted, showing her beautiful teeth; if they were a little large, they were very white and even.
"As I've had no experience of cousins, how can I say?"
"I shouldn't like you to feel that I'm beginning by evading what, for aught either of us can tell, might be my duty."
Stooping, he kissed her on the mouth. Though it was little more than a butterfly's kiss, her lips seemed to meet his with a gentle pressure which he found agreeable.
"You are a cousin!" she exclaimed.
"I'm glad you are," he replied.
"Didn't you really know you had a cousin?" He shook his head. "Nor I; isn't it queer? I only found it out the other day by the merest accident; in some respects dad is the most secretive person. I've been abroad for the last five years. How old do you think I am?"
There was a frankness, a friendliness about this cousin which amused him. In that sense she could not have been more unlike her sire.