"That's very well; we're
compatriots." And then she began to play.
"Ah then she's not French," Isabel murmured; and as the opposite
supposition had made her romantic it might have seemed that this
revelation would have marked a drop. But such was not the fact;
rarer even than to be French seemed it to be American on such
interesting terms.
The lady played in the same manner as before, softly and solemnly,
and while she played the shadows deepened in the room. The autumn
twilight gathered in, and from her place Isabel could see the rain,
which had now begun in earnest, washing the cold-looking lawn and
the wind shaking the great trees. At last, when the music had
ceased, her companion got up and, coming nearer with a smile, before
Isabel had time to thank her again, said: "I'm very glad you've come
back; I've heard a great deal about you."
Isabel thought her a very attractive person, but nevertheless
spoke with a certain abruptness in reply to this speech. "From whom
have you heard about me?"
The stranger hesitated a single moment and then, "From your
uncle," she answered. "I've been here three days, and the first day he
let me come and pay him a visit in his room.
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