"I don't know. I know some people that call my cousin too clever."
Catherine listened to this statement with extreme interest, and a
feeling that if Morris Townsend had a fault it would naturally be
that one. But she did not commit herself, and in a moment she asked:
"Now that he has come back, will he stay here always?"
"Ah," said Arthur, "if he can get something to do."
"Something to do?"
"Some place or other; some business."
"Hasn't he got any?" said Catherine, who had never heard of a young
man--of the upper class--in this situation.
"No; he's looking round. But he can't find anything."
"I am very sorry," Catherine permitted herself to observe.
"Oh, he doesn't mind," said young Townsend. "He takes it easy--he
isn't in a hurry. He is very particular."
Catherine thought he naturally would be, and gave herself up for some
moments to the contemplation of this idea, in several of its
bearings.
"Won't his father take him into his business--his office?" she at
last inquired.
"He hasn't got any father--he has only got a sister. Your sister
can't help you much."
It seemed to Catherine that if she were his sister she would disprove
this axiom. "Is she--is she pleasant?" she asked in a moment.
"I don't know--I believe she's very respectable," said young
Townsend. And then he looked across to his cousin and began to
laugh. "Look here, we are talking about you," he added.
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