take it, she wants a man with brains, and therefore Lord Robert———"
"His order of brains does not appeal to her. She prefers a more artistic temperament."
"Artistic? Dear me! Was there any one at the pension, whom—whom she seemed at all drawn towards?"
"She was intimate with an American girl, and through her she saw something of her brother. But they did not hit it off particularly well. Frankly, I think she preferred talking to me to any other man. As she said herself, our views on art were so very much the same."
He said this with intention, watching his uncle's face closely as he spoke. The old lawyer looked up shrewdly.
"God bless my soul! Perhaps it is as well you came away. It would never do to have her falling in love with you, George!"
The young man paused a moment. "Why should it not do, supposing I fell in love with her?"
"Nonsense! I could never tolerate it for a moment. People would at once say it was a plot I had hatched—especially as you went there under an assumed name. No; it would never do. You forget I am her trustee, and literally the only person on whom she does rely."
"Cannot she rely on me, as your nephew? Sooner or later, she must learn who I really am."
"You have not been encouraging any foolish ideas of this kind, George?" Mr. Twisden looked sternly at his nephew. "I repeat—I would never tolerate it. You have, by accident, made the young lady's acquaintance. Henceforward, except in matters of business, I do not wish you to have anything more to say to her."
