“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. “But, forgive me, you are tired. . “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. The young ladies in the somewhat mixed society amongst which he moved neither satisfied his taste nor appealed in any way to his affections. She had always loved babies, like you! We ran away to the Barbars, back then, the land of the barbarian North.
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