ty, of the sanest mirth. Eustace Derwent was present; he
behaved with exemplary good-breeding, remarking suavely that they had
met before, and betraying in no corner of his pleasant smile that that
meeting had been other than delightful to both. Three guests arrived,
besides Otway, one of them the distinguished person whose name had
impressed him; a grizzled gentleman, of bland brows, and the simplest,
softest manner.

At table there was general conversation--the mode of civilised beings.
His mind in a whirl at first, Otway presently found himself quite
capable of taking part in the talk. Someone had told a story
illustrative of superstition in English peasant folk, and Piers had
only to draw upon his Russian experiences for pursuit of the subject.
He told how, in a time of great drought, he had known a corpse dug up
from its grave by peasantry, and thrown into a muddy pond--a vigorous
measure for the calling down of rain; also, how he had seen a priest
submit to be dragged on his back across a turnip field, that thereby a
great crop might be secured. These things interested the great man, who
sat opposite; he beamed upon Otway, and sought from him further
information regarding Russia. Piers saw that Irene had turned to him;
he held himself in command, he spoke neither too much nor too little,
and as the things he knew were worth knowing, his share in the talk
made a very favourable impression. In truth, these three years had
intellectually much advanced him. It was at this time that he had begun
to use the brief, decisive turn of speech which afterwards became his
habit; a mode of utterance suggesting both mental resources and force
of character.

Later in the evening, he found himself beside Mrs. Hannaford in a
corner of the drawing-room. He had hoped to speak a little with Miss
Derwent, in semi-privacy, but of that there seemed no chance; enough
that he had her so long before his eyes. Nor did he venture to speak of
her to her aunt, though with difficulty subduing the desire. He knew
that Mrs. Hannaford understood what was in his mind, and he felt
pleased to have her for a silent confidante. She, not altogether at
ease in this company, was glad to talk to Otway of everyday things; she
mentioned her daughter, who was understood to be living elsewhere for
the convenience of artistic studies.

"I hope you will be able to meet Olga before you go. She shuts herself
up from us a great deal--something like you used to do