“I am trying to cultivate an intense local pride,” he assured her smiling, but he was not altogether pleased at the turn the conversation had taken. His future was not causing him any special anxiety, and he was not grateful for being reminded of it, it seemed unnecessary..
He was relieved when the conversation was interrupted as it now was by the entrance of Mrs. Walsh's small sombre figure, for she had never laid aside the mourning she had put on when Benson brought them the news of her husband's death. She was not alone, there followed her into the room a tall girl with rich masses of dark brown hair and dark hazel eyes, which Stephen was aware lighted up charmingly with shy recognition the moment they rested on him; they were instantly veiled by long dark lashes. Instinct told him that this was Harriett's pink-faced baby.
“I fear you will have to put me right, or I shall blunder terribly. It's Aunt Jane, of course;” but he looked beyond Mrs. Walsh to the slight graceful figure of the girl.
“This is my Harriett's Elinor,” said Mrs. Walsh.
“We may be a little confusing at first, but there is only papa and mama, and my sister Clara,” said Elinor as they shook hands.
“You were the baby when I was here before,” Stephen said. “And where is Clara?”
“My sister is away from home, but there is some one here you will want to see, we were just speaking of you—Ben!” she called.
“Yes, Elinor,” said a masculine voice from the hall, and a tall young fellow, rather shabbily dressed, but carrying himself with smiling self-confidence, entered the room. He was clean-shaven, and the outline of his shapely head was accented by his closely cropped black hair; his nose was long and prominent, his eyes black like his hair, when he smiled, and he was smiling now, he disclosed two rows of white even teeth. His attitude toward Stephen from the first moment of their meeting was that of an old friend.
“It's awfully good to see you, Landray,” he said.
“And it's good to see you, Benjamin Wade,” said Stephen laughing. There was something about the young fellow which made his surname oddly unsuited to him.