‘I suppose it must,’ said he, rising; and wishing them good-morning, he departed. Nita, when breakfast was over, proposed a tour round the garden, she had some orders to give the gardener, and must go to the farm, or perhaps he would prefer to stay indoors. ‘I should prefer to go with you if I may,’ he said; and they strolled out together. Nita appeared quite at home outside the house. During their progress round the garden Jerome grew more interested in her, and with him, to be interested in a woman was to do his utmost to make himself interesting to her. Nita was not aware of this idiosyncrasy; and a man cannot say to a woman, ‘Do not make yourself interesting to me, or I shall try in turn to captivate you.’ The rules of etiquette do not allow such a statement, but when a man’s heart is given in one direction, he may intimate that fact, and make it quite palpable to another woman, without absolutely saying in so many words, ‘I am engaged; do not fall in love with me,’ and he may do this without hurting her feelings or her self-respect. Jerome Wellfield did not do this. ‘There is a farm belonging to the Abbey,’ observed Nita, ‘and papa leaves all the management of it to me: he only cares for his books when he leaves business, so I have the farm and the gardens and the house—indeed, everything connected with our life here—to look after.’ ‘Quite alone?’ asked Jerome. ‘Yes; because I have no brothers or sisters, and very few friends. I am the only one, and I am glad of it.’ ‘Are you? Is it not rather lonely?’ ‘I never feel lonely. I don’t know what it is to feel lonely. And sometimes I think it is only the heroines of novels who ever do feel so; but when I once said so to Aunt Margaret, she said who was I to talk? and desired me to wait until I had had a little more experience of life.’ ‘Let us hope you may never have any experience in that line,’ said Jerome, smiling. ‘Why, do you know what it is to be lonely?’ ‘No; I have never felt particularly oppressed by that sensation. But, talking about brothers and sisters, I should have thought you would have been—we won’t say less lonely, since you take exception to the term—but would have enjoyed life more if you had had some of them.’ ‘I don’t see it,’ persisted Nita. ‘I am very happy as I am. I like my own way. I don’t care to be interfered with. A brother would take the first place in papa’s heart, and have the first say in everything; and a sister—no, I would rather not.’ ‘You are exclusive, and contented. Some day you will have power more undivided than now, even,’ said Jerome, dwelling with a morbid persistency on the idea which at present haunted him. ‘I suppose you like thinking of that too?’ ‘Yes,’ said Nita, frankly and unthinkingly, ‘I do; I love to think that I am not going to leave this dear old place, ever. And I love to think that some day, though I hope not for a very long time, it will be my very own.’