"Beginning away back with your first
memories?"
"My first memories are not of family groups--only of nurses and tutors,
with occasional portraits of my grandfather making inquiries as to how I
was getting on. And my later memories are all of school and
college--then of travel. Not a home scene among them."
"You poor boy!" There was something maternal in Mrs. Stephen's tone,
though she looked considerably younger than the object of her pity. "But
you must have looked at plenty of other family groups, if you had none
of your own."
"That's exactly what I haven't done."
"But you've lived--in the world," she cried under her breath, puzzled.
A curious expression came into the young man's face. "That's exactly
what I have done," he said quietly. "In the world, not in the home. I've
not even _seen_ homes--like this one. The sight of brother and sisters
playing violin and harp and 'cello together, with the father and mother
and brother and uncle looking on, is absolutely so new to me that it has
a fascination I can't explain. I find myself continually watching you
all--if you'll forgive me--in your relations to each other.
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