More than ever he was struck with
the wonderful likeness between mother and daughter.
"I will come at any time I am asked," he answered, quietly, "but I am
sorry that you are going."
They had finished supper, and had drawn their chairs around the fire.
Arranmore was smoking a cigarette, and Brooks took one from his case.
The carriage was ordered in a quarter of an hour. Brooks found that he
and Sybil were a little apart from the others.
"Do you know, I am sorry too," she declared. "Of course it has been
much quieter at Enton than most of the houses we go to, and we only came
at first, I think, because many years ago my mother and Lord Arranmore
were great friends, and she fancied that he was shutting himself up
too much. But I have enjoyed it very much indeed."
He looked at her curiously. He was trying to appreciate what a life of
refined pleasure which she must live would really be like--how
satisfying--whether its limitations ever asserted themselves. Sybil was
a more than ordinarily pretty girl, but her face was as smooth as a
child's. The Joie de vivre seemed to be always in her eyes.
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