?"

I was utterly exasperated--.

"No, I won't!--If you only admit by inference that you are lonely, I say
it right out--I am abominably lonely this morning and I want to talk to
you.--Did I see you at the Duchesse de Courville-Hautevine's on
Wednesday last?"

"Possibly."

I literally had not the pluck to ask her what she was doing there.
However, she went on--.

"There are still many wounded who require bandages--."

That was it! of course--she was bringing bandages!

"She is a splendid woman, the Duchesse, she was a friend of my
mother's--" I said.

Miss Sharp looked down suddenly--she had her head turned towards the
window.

"There are many splendid women in France--but you don't see them--the
poor are too wonderful, they lose their nearest and dearest and never
complain, they only say it is '_la Guerre_!'."

"Have you any near relations fighting?"--

"Yes"--

It was too stupid having to drag information out of her like this--I
gave it up--and then I was haunted by the desire to know what relations
they were?--If she has a father he must be at least fifty--and he must
be in the English Army--why then does she seem so poor?--It can't be a
brother--her's is only thirteen--would a cousin count as a near
relation?--or--can she have a _fiance_--?!

The sudden idea of this caused me a nasty twinge--But no, her third
finger has no ring on it.--I grew calmer again--.

"I feel you have a hundred thousand interesting things to say if you
would only talk!" I blurted out at last.

"I am not here to talk, Sir Nicholas--I am here to do your typing."

"Does that make a complete barrier?--Won't you be friends with me?"

Burton came into the room at that moment--and while he was there she
slipped off to her typing without answering me. Burton has arranged a
place for her in his room, which is next to mine, so that I shall not be
disturbed by the noise of her machine clicking.

"Miss Sharp must lunch with me"--I said.

Burton coughed as he answered.

"Very good, Sir Nicholas."

That meant that he did not approve of this arrangement--why?--Really
these old servants are unsupportable.

The antediluvian waiters come in to lay the table presently, and I
ordered peaches and grapes and some very special chablis--I felt
exultant at my having manoeuvred that Miss Sharp should eat with me!

She came in when all was ready with her usual serene calm--and took her
place at right angles to me.

Her hands are not ne