There was genuine interest in her eyes now. Sir John saw it, and was
flattered.
"You are Sir John Ferringhall," she repeated. "Yes, I remember you
now. You were pointed out to me at--a few nights ago."
He was not in the least surprised. A millionaire and a knight, even
though his money has been made in carpets, is used to being a person
of interest.
"Very likely," he answered. "I am fairly well known here. I must
apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance
certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you
were becoming--pardon me--an object of comment to the passers-by."
The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners
of her mouth--humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. As though
accidentally she swept her skirts from a chair close drawn to her own.
Sir John hesitated. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite
sure--yet--that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public
a place. His inclinations prompted him most decidedly to take the
vacant chair. Prudence reminded him that he was a county magistrate,
and parliamentary candidate for a somewhat difficult borough, where
his principal supporters were dissenters of strict principles who took
a zealous interest in his moral character. He temporized, and the girl
raised her eyes once more to his.
"You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate,
are you not?" she remarked. "My father's sisters used once to live in
the old manor house. I believe you have had it pulled down, have you
not?"
"The Misses Pellissier!" he exclaimed. "Then your name----"
"My name is Pellissier. My father was Colonel Pellissier. He had an
appointment in Jersey, you know, after he left the army."
Sir John did not hesitate any longer. He sat down.
"Upon my word," he exclaimed, "this is most extraordinary. I----"
Then he stopped short, for he began to remember things. He was not
quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. He would have risen
again, but for the significance of the action.
"Dear me!" he said. "Then some of your family history is known to me.
One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London."
The girl nodded.
"She is living there now," she remarked.
"Your father is dead too, I believe," he continued, "and your mother."