Part 9 (2/2)

”Surely that makes a relations.h.i.+p, however,” said Cuthbert, courageously. ”If your stepsister is my second cousin, you must be a sort of step-second-cousin to me. Will you not condescend to acknowledge the connection?”

”Isn't the condescension all on your side?” said Nora coolly. ”It may be a connection, but it certainly isn't a relations.h.i.+p.”

”I am only too glad to hear you call it a connection,” said Cuthbert, with gravity. And then the two laughed--Nora rather against her will--Cuthbert out of amus.e.m.e.nt at the situation, and both out of sheer light-heartedness. And when they had laughed the ice seemed to be broken, and they felt as if they were old friends.

”I did not know that any of our relations were living in Beaminster,” he resumed, after a moment's pause.

”I suppose you never even heard our name,” said Nora, saucily.

”I don't--know----” he began, in some confusion.

”Of course you don't. Your father had a cousin and she married a doctor--a poor country surgeon, and so of course you forgot all about her existence. She was not _my_ mother, so I can speak out, you know.

Your father never spoke to her again after she married _my_ father.”

”More shame to him! I remember now. Your father is James Colwyn.”

Nora nodded. ”I think it was a very great shame,” she said.

”And so do I,” said Cuthbert, heartily.

”It was all the worse,” Nora went on, quite forgetting in her eagerness whom she was talking to, ”because Mr. Brand was not himself so very much thought of, you know--people did not think--oh, I forgot! I beg your pardon!” she suddenly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, turning crimson as she remembered that the man to whom she was speaking was the son of the much-abused Mr.

Brand, who had been considered the black sheep of the county.

”Don't apologize, pray,” said Cuthbert, lightly. ”I'm quite accustomed to hearing my relations spoken ill of. What was it that people did not think?”

”Oh,” said Nora, now covered with confusion, ”of course I could not tell you.”

”It was so very bad, was it?” said the young man, laughing. ”You need not be afraid. Really and seriously, I have been told that my poor father was not very popular about here, and I don't much wonder at it, for although he was a good father to us he was rather short in manner, and, perhaps, I may add, in temper. Wyvis is like him exactly, I believe.”

”And are you?” asked Nora.

Cuthbert raised his hat and gave it a tremendous flourish.

”Mademoiselle, I have not that honor,” he replied.

”I suppose I ought not to have asked,” said Nora to herself, but this time she restrained herself and did not say it aloud. ”I wonder where Janetta is?” she murmured after a moment's silence. ”I did not think that she would be so long.”

If Cuthbert thought the remark ungracious, as he might well have done, he made no sign of discomfiture. ”Can I do anything?” he asked. ”Shall I go to the house and find out whether she has seen my brother? But then I shall have to leave you.”

”Oh, that doesn't matter,” said Nora, innocently.

”Doesn't it? But I hardly like the idea of leaving you all alone. There might be tramps about. If you are like all the other young ladies I have known, you will have an objection to tramps.”

”I am sure,” said Nora, with confidence, ”that I am not at all like the other young ladies you know; but at the same time I must confess that I don't like tramps.”

”I knew it. And I saw a tramp--I am sure I did--a little while ago in this very wood. He was ragged and dirty, but picturesque. I sketched him, but I think he would not be a pleasant companion for you.”

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