There was some discussion. Finally Miss Ward elected to remain at home and Gentian accompanied her new friends to a quiet and comfortable little restaurant not very far away. She slipped into a fur coat, with a smart little blue velvet toque, and Mrs. Wharnecliffe again assured herself that she was dangerously attractive. "I am a kind of cousin," said Thorold as he walked by her side. "I think it would be better and easier for us all if you were to consider me as such." "And what do cousins do?" she asked mischievously. "I suppose they call each other by their Christian names. You can call me Gentian, what shall I call you?" "Cousin Thorold," said Mrs. Wharnecliffe quietly. Gentian's blue eyes turned to her. "You are afraid that Thorold will be too familiar? I must put the cousin before it to show my respect and veneration." "Oh, that is all immaterial," said Thorold, a slight impatience in his tone. "But being cousins, I am a relation, and so bound to look after you a little. And as I understand from Miss Ward the peculiarity of your circumstances, I shall do as she wants me to do, and regard you as a trust handed on by your godfather with all his other earthly goods and chattels." Gentian's blue eyes opened their widest. "So I'm a chattel, like his tables and chairs and books? Oh, thank you so very much. I should like to know what you intend to do with me." Mrs. Wharnecliffe left Gentian's other side, to administer a quiet pinch to Thorold. As they were crossing a wide thoroughfare it was not noticed, though Thorold rubbed his arm a little ruefully. He understood the signal, and knew he was not to proceed quite so quickly. "Oh," he responded carelessly, "I mean to take a fatherly interest in you. I can spread out certain plans for your future, for your refusal or acceptance. And you can use me as a buffer when occasion requires. A cousin in the background of a certain standing and respectability, is an important asset sometimes." Gentian was silent, then as they came to the restaurant, and Mrs. Wharnecliffe led the way, she turned back towards Thorold. "I might use you," she said slowly and thoughtfully, "till Mr. Paget—comes to England." "And who is he?" "The man who wants to marry me." Then she followed Mrs. Wharnecliffe in without another word. And Thorold did not know whether he felt relieved by her announcement or not. Relieved, he decided after a few minutes' reflection, for his guardianship might prove to be of very short duration. Gentian now turned her attention to other things. She was full of interest in her surroundings; commented on the people around her, and asked Mrs. Wharnecliffe a hundred questions about London and its pleasures. "I am tired of people and cities myself," she said; "but if you have to earn your livelihood as I mean to earn mine, you are dependent on them to support you. If I come to stay with you for a week or two, may I bring my car down? Have you one of your own?"