"Nevertheless you will like Verity," he returned quickly. "Like attracts like--a transparent, truthful nature, which is absolutely without guile, will not fail to appeal to you; I already know you well enough to predict that with certainty." Elizabeth turned this speech off with a laugh, but her colour rose at the implied compliment; if like attracts like, as Mr. Herrick said, he must think her original and guileless too. Something in Malcolm's tone--in the expression of his dark eyes--confirmed this impression, and in spite of her stateliness and thirty years the second Miss Templeton felt a little shy. "We have not seen the garden-room yet," she said hastily, and then she led the way downstairs. The garden lay on the side of the house, and was well kept and full of flowers; but the temporary building erected by Mr. Logan rather spoiled the view from the back of the house, though a gay flower-border surrounded it. Elizabeth, who had procured the key from the servant, now opened the door. It was rather a bare-looking place, as Verity had said; more of a workshop than a studio, though it was used for both purposes, and, as both of them knew, good work had been done there; but Mr. Logan, who had a fine studio in town, was content with rather a primitive state of things in his country cottage. It was sufficiently large, though part of it was partitioned off as a bedroom; the partition, for the sake of airiness, was only eight or nine feet high, and the furniture was of the plainest description; a white Indian matting covered the floor, and there were pink Madras curtains at the window. As Elizabeth pointed out, it could not have been closed for months, for actually beautiful clusters of roses had not only festooned the casement, but had found their way into the room, and hung their sweet heads over the sill, as though they were trying to reach the floor. Malcolm declared himself quite enchanted; he had never seen any place he liked better. There was room for his big bath--his tub he called it mentally--and a comfortable chair or two, and when he had concluded these little arrangements to his own satisfaction, he joined Elizabeth, who was making friends with a great sandy cat, who rejoiced in the doubtful name of Old Tom. "I am glad you are so pleased," she said in quite an interested tone, as they walked down the road again. "I hardly expected that you would be so easily satisfied. Cedric calls the Crow's Nest a wretched little hole." "Oh, he is so young, Miss Templeton--he is at the age when one has great expectations; we learn to moderate and alter our ideas as we grow older. Don't you remember Carmen Sylva's charming description of youth and age? I like it so much." Elizabeth shook her head. "I am afraid I do not read enough," she said rather sadly. But he looked at her very kindly. "She is one of the wisest and wittiest of women," he returned; "and she is your namesake too." "Oh yes, I know that."