IV

No business of his! The merest sense of comradeship, then, took him once
more to Dromore's after that disclosure, to prove that the word 'outside'
had no significance save in his friend's own fancy; to assure him again
that Sylvia would be very glad to welcome the child at any time she liked
to come.

When he had told her of that little matter of Nell's birth, she had been
silent a long minute, looking in his face, and then had said: "Poor
child! I wonder if SHE knows! People are so unkind, even nowadays!" He
could not himself think of anyone who would pay attention to such a
thing, except to be kinder to the girl; but in such matters Sylvia was
the better judge, in closer touch with general thought. She met people
that he did not--and of a more normal species.

It was rather late when he got to Dromore's diggings on that third visit.

"Mr. Dromore, sir," the man said--he had one of those strictly
confidential faces bestowed by an all-wise Providence on servants in the
neighbourhood of Piccadilly--"Mr. Dromore, sir, is not in. But he will be
almost sure to be in to dress. Miss Nell is in, sir."

And there she was, sitting at the table, pasting photographs into an
album--lonely young creature in that abode of male middle-age! Lennan
stood, unheard, gazing at the back of her head, with its thick
crinkly-brown hair tied back on her dark-red frock. And, to the
confidential man's soft:

"Mr. Lennan, miss," he added a softer: "May I come in?"

She put her hand into his with intense composure.

"Oh, yes, do! if you don't mind the mess I'm making;" and, with a little
squeeze of the tips of his fingers, added: "Would it bore you to see my
photographs?"

And down they sat together before the photographs--snapshots of people
with guns or fishing-rods, little groups of schoolgirls, kittens, Dromore
and herself on horseback, and several of a young man with a broad,
daring, rather good-looking face. "That's Oliver--Oliver Dromore--Dad's
first cousin once removed. Rather nice, isn't he? Do you like his
expression?"

Lennan did not know. Not her second cousin; her father's first cousin
once removed! And again there leaped in him that unreasoning flame of
indignant pity.

"And how about drawing? You haven't come to be taught yet."

She went almost as red as her frock.

"I thought you were only being polite. I oughtn't to have asked. Of
course, I want to awfully--only I know it'll bore you."

"It