‘Know anything?’ replied Cytherea, poising herself on her toe to consider the compass of the question.
‘Yes—know anything,’ said Miss Aldclyffe.
‘Owen is an architect and surveyor’s draughtsman,’ the maiden said, and thought of somebody else who was likewise.
‘Yes! that’s why I asked you. What are the different kinds of work comprised in an architect’s practice? They lay out estates, and superintend the various works done upon them, I should think, among other things?’
‘Those are, more properly, a land or building steward’s duties—at least I have always imagined so. Country architects include those things in their practice; city architects don’t.’
‘I know that, child. But a steward’s is an indefinite fast and loose profession, it seems to me. Shouldn’t you think that a man who had been brought up as an architect would do for a steward?’
Cytherea had doubts whether an architect pure would do.
The chief pleasure connected with asking an opinion lies in not adopting it. Miss Aldclyffe replied decisively—
‘Nonsense; of course he would. Your brother Owen makes plans for country buildings—such as cottages, stables, homesteads, and so on?’
‘Yes; he does.’