He advanced, and she rose and held
out her hand. He was confused; she was perfectly collected, although
the colour rose a little more in her cheek. She might have been a year
older than Alec.

"So you are a cousin of mine, Mr Forbes!" she said, when they were all
seated by the blazing fire--she with a piece of plain work in her
hands, he with a very awkward nothing in his, and the professor
contemplating his swathed leg on the chair before him.

"So your uncle says," he answered, "and I am very happy to believe him.
I hope we shall be good friends."

Alec was recovering himself.

"I hope we shall," she responded, with a quick, shy, asking glance from
her fine eyes.

Those eyes were worth looking into, if only as a study of colour. They
were of many hues marvellously blended. I think grey and blue and brown
and green were all to be found in them. Their glance rather discomposed
Alec. He had not learned before that ladies' eyes are sometimes very
discomposing. Yet he could not keep his from wandering towards them;
and the consequence was that he soon lost the greater part of his
senses. After sitting speechless for some moments, and feeling as if he
had been dumb for as many minutes, he was seized by a horrible
conviction that if he remained silent an instant longer, he would be
driven to do or say something absurd. So he did the latter at once by
bursting out with the stupid question,

"What are you working at?"

"A duster," she answered instantly--this time without looking up.

Now the said duster was of the finest cambric; so that Alec could not
help seeing that she was making game of him. This banished his shyness,
and put him on his mettle.

"I see," he said, "when I ask questions, you--"

"Tell lies," she interposed, without giving him time even to hesitate;
adding,

"Does your mother answer all your questions, Mr Forbes?"

"I believe she does--one way or other."

"Then it is sometimes the other way? Is she nice?"

"Who?" returned Alec, surprised into doubt.

"Your mother."

"She's the best woman in the world," he answered with vehemence, almost
shocked at having to answer such a question.

"Oh! I beg your pardon," returned Kate, laughing; and the laugh curled
her lip, revealing very pretty teeth, with a semi-transparent
pearly-blue shadow in them.

"I am glad she is nice," she went on. "I should like to know her.
Mothers are not _always_ nice. I knew a girl at school whose mother
wasn't ni