'I don't mind her a bit, Alec, if you don't. If you begin to mind her—— But we will wait until that happens. Why are you here to-day?'
'I have come to call upon Mrs. Elstree, widow of my poor friend Jerome Elstree.'
'Ce pauvre Jerome! The tears come into my eyes'—in fact, they did at that moment—'look!—when I think of him. So often have I spoken of his virtues and his untimely fate that he has really lived. I never before understood that there are ghosts of men who never lived as well as ghosts of the dead.'
'And I came to call upon your charge, Miss Rosevean.'
'Yes'—she said this dubiously, perhaps jealously—'so I supposed. Why did you send me here, Alec? You have always got some reason for everything. There was no need for my coming—I was doing as well as I expect to do.'
The young man looked about the room without replying to this question.
'Someone,' he said presently, 'has furnished this room who knows furniture.'
'It was Armorel herself. I have no taste—as you know.'
'And how do you get on with her? Are you happy here, Zoe?'
'I am as happy as I ever expect to be—until——'