This little girl from a far land is proving herself too much for him.

And it is not her words that disconcert him so much as the straight, clear, open glance from her thoughtful eyes.
To turn the conversation into another channel seems desirable to him.
"I hope you are happy here with my sister," says he, in his anything but everyday tone.
"Quite happy, thank you.

But I should have been happier still, I think, if I had been allowed to stay with your brother." Sir Hastings drops his glasses.

Good heavens! what kind of a girl is this! "To stay with my brother! To _stay_," stammers he.
"Yes.

He _is_ your brother, isn't he?
The professor, I mean.