As the two so typical of youth and age stood side by side in the clear
morning light, the resemblance between them was marked. Indeed, they
were related, for the Tremaines were a distant branch of the Leroy
family, and the same proud blood ran in their veins. Lady Constance had
been brought up in the Barminster household, and Adrien had grown to
regard her in the light of a loved and trusted sister; but, as yet,
nothing more.
"Won't you come in to breakfast?" she said, as they reached the end of
the terrace. "Aunt Penelope is not coming down; her nerves are bad this
morning."
Miss Penelope Leroy, Lord Barminster's only sister, was not strictly
speaking Constance's aunt, merely a distant cousin; but as a child
Constance had been accustomed to call her so, and the habit had grown up
with her.
Lord Barminster smiled grimly.
"I advised her to let the cucumber alone last night," was his only
comment as he turned towards the breakfast room.
Constance smiled too, for she knew that when Miss Penelope complained of
her nerves, it was in reality nothing but a case of indigestion.
"How bright the course looks this morning!" she said, with a charitable
wish to change the subject, for Lord Barminster was apt at times to wax
caustic over his sister's small weaknesses.
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