"
"When did you see her last?"
"About Christmas. We went to a concert together. That's one of the
things Irene is going in for--music. When I first knew her, she
didn't seem to care much about it, though she played fairly well."
"I never heard her play," fell from Piers in an undertone.
"No; she only did to please her father now and then. It's a mental
and moral advance, her new love of music. I notice that she talks
much less about science, much more about the things one really likes
--I speak for myself. Well, it's just possible I have had a little
influence there. I confess my inability to chat about either physic
or physics. It's weak, of course, but I have no place in your new
world of women."
"You mistake, I think," said Piers. "That ideal has nothing to do
with any particular study. It supposes intelligence, that's all."
"So much the better. You must write about it in English; then we'll
debate. By the bye, if I go to your Castle, you must come down to
show me the country."
"I should like to."
"Oh, that's part of the plan. If we don't get the Castle, you must
find some other place for me. I leave it in your hands--with an
apology for my impudence."
After a pause, during which each of them mused smiling, they began
to talk of their departure for England. Otway would go direct in a
few days' time; Mrs. Borisoff had to travel a long way round, first
of all accompanying her husband to the Crimea, on a visit to
relatives.
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