"You will find my daughter most careful in such matters,
Mr. Burton. She is used to being associated with work of importance."
"You are very kind," Burton murmured. "If you will excuse me, then, for
a few moments?"
"By all means," the professor declared. "And pray suit yourself
entirely, Mr. Burton, as to the clothes you bring and the preparations
you make for your visit. If you prefer not to change for the evening, I
will do the same. I am renowned in the neighborhood chiefly for my
shabbiness and my carpet slippers."
Burton paused on the threshold and looked back. Edith was bending over
the table, collecting the loose sheets of manuscript. The sunlight had
turned her hair almost to the color of flame. Against the background of
the open window, her slim, delicate figure, clad in a fashionable mist
of lace and muslin, seemed to him like some wonderful piece of intensely
modern statuary. Between them the professor sat, with his arms still
folded, a benevolent yet pensive smile upon his lips.
CHAPTER XVI
ENTER MR. BOMFORD!
"I have decided," Edith remarked, stopping the swinging of the hammock
with her foot, "to write and ask Mr. Bomford to come and spend the
week-end here.
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