"And you are great friends, you three?" she said as they settled
themselves for the prolonged absence of the two men.
Sylvia smiled; she smiled, Aunt Barbara noticed, almost entirely with
her eyes, using her mouth only when it came to laughing; but her eyes
smiled quite charmingly.
"That's always rather a rash thing to pronounce on," she said. "I can
tell you for certain that Hermann and I are both very fond of him, but
it is presumptuous for us to say that he is equally devoted to us."
"My dear, there is no call for modesty about it," said Barbara. "Between
you--for I imagine it is you who have done it--between you you have made
a perfectly different creature of the boy. You've made him flower."
Sylvia became quite grave.
"Oh, I do hope he likes us," she said. "He is so likable himself."
Barbara nodded
"And you've had the good sense to find that out," she said. "It's
astonishing how few people knew it. But then, as I said, Michael hadn't
flowered. No one understood him, or was interested. Then he suddenly
made up his mind last summer what he wanted to do and be, and
immediately did and was it."
"I think he told Hermann," said she. "His father didn't approve, did
he?"
"Approve? My dear, if you knew my brother you would know that the only
things he approves of are those which Michael isn't.
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