“Do you?” returned Miss Wren. “Sit down. I hope it’s mutual.” Bradley glanced distrustfully at the shrewd face again bending over the work, and said, trying to conquer doubt and hesitation:

“I hope you don’t imply that my visit will be unacceptable to Hexam’s sister?”

“There! Don’t call her that. I can’t bear you to call her that,” returned Miss Wren, snapping her fingers in a volley of impatient snaps, “for I don’t like Hexam.”

“Indeed?”

“No.” Miss Wren wrinkled her nose, to express dislike. “Selfish. Thinks only of himself. The way with all of you.”

“The way with all of us? Then you don’t like me ?”

“So-so,” replied Miss Wren, with a shrug and a laugh. “Don’t know much about you.”