"Yes; I live near it."
"Do you really? I am so glad to hear that. I have been there lately very often. How happy you Londoners are to have such glorious places. In that reading-room I felt inclined to bless England."
Miss Grey was now particularly sorry that she had said anything about her place of residence. Still it did not seem as if much would have been gained by any reticence unless she could actually dismiss her companion peremptorily. Mr. Heron was evidently quite resolved to be her escort all the way along. He was clearly under the impression that he was making himself very agreeable. The good-natured youth believed he was doing quite the right thing, and meant it all for the very best, and therefore could not suppose that any nice girl could fail to accept his attendance in a kindly spirit. That Miss Grey must be a nice girl he was perfectly certain, for he had met her at Mr. Money's, and Money was evidently a fine fellow—a very fine fellow. Miss Grey was very handsome too, but that did not count for very much with Heron. At least he would have made himself just as readily, under the circumstances, the escort of little Miss Blanchet.
So he talked on about various things—the Moneys, and what charming people they were! the British Museum, what a noble institution! the National Gallery, how hideous the building!—why on earth didn't anybody do something?—the glorious destiny of England—the utter imbecility of the English Government.
It was not always quite easy to keep up with his talk, for the streets were crowded and noisy, and Mr. Heron talked right on through every interruption. When they came to crossings where the perplexed currents and counter-currents of traffic on wheels would have made a nervous person shudder, Mr. Heron coolly took Miss Grey's hand and conducted her in and out, talking all the while as if they were crossing a ball-room floor. Minola made it a point of honor not to hesitate, or start, or show that she had nerves. But when he began to run into politics he always pulled himself up, for he politely remembered that young ladies did not care about politics, and so he tried to find some prettier subject to talk about. Miss Grey understood this perfectly well, and was amused and contemptuous.
"I suppose this man must be a person of some brains and sense," she thought. "He was in command of something somewhere, and I suppose even the Government he calls so imbecile would not have put him there if he were a downright fool. But because he talks to a woman, he feels bound only to talk of trivial things."
At last the walk came to an end. "Ah, I beg pardon. You live here," Mr. Heron said. "May I have the honor of calling on your family? I sometimes come to the Museum, and if I might call, I should be delighted to make their acquaintance."
"Thank you," Miss Grey said coldly. "I have no family. My father and mother are dead."
"Oh, I am so sorry! I wish I had not asked such a question." He looked really distressed, and the expression of his eyes had for the first time a pleasing, softening effect upon Miss Grey.
"We lodge here all alone—a lady—an old friend of mine—and I. We have no acquaintances, unless Lucy Money's family may be called so. We read and study a great deal, and don't go out, and don't see any one."