er's with her own three girls, who were always allowed to appear
at this hour. The scene was really delightful--enlarged by full-length
portraits with deep backgrounds, inserted in the cedar
paneling--surmounted by a ceiling that glowed with the rich colors of
the coats of arms ranged between the sockets--illuminated almost as
much by the red fire of oak-boughs as by the pale wax-lights--stilled
by the deep-piled carpet and by the high English breeding that subdues
all voices; while the mixture of ages, from the white-haired Lord and
Lady Pentreath to the four-year-old Edgar Raymond, gave a varied charm
to the living groups. Lady Mallinger, with fair matronly roundness and
mildly prominent blue eyes, moved about in her black velvet, carrying a
tiny white dog on her arm as a sort of finish to her costume; the
children were scattered among the ladies, while most of the gentlemen
were standing rather aloof, conversing with that very moderate vivacity
observable during the long minutes before dinner. Deronda was a little
out of the circle in a dialogue fixed upon him by Mr. Vandernoodt, a
man of the best Dutch blood imported at the revolution: for the rest,
one of those commodious persons in society who are nothing particular
themselves, but are understood to be acquainted with the best in every
department; close-clipped, pale-eyed, _nonchalant_, as good a foil as
could well be found to the intense coloring and vivid gravity of
Deronda.

He was talking of the bride and bridegroom, whose appearance was being
waited for. Mr. Vandernoodt was an industrious gleaner of personal
details, and could probably tell everything about a great philosopher
or physicist except his theories or discoveries; he was now implying
that he had learned many facts about Grandcourt since meeting him at
Leubronn.

"Men who have seen a good deal of life don't always end by choosing
their wives so well. He has had rather an anecdotic history--gone
rather deep into pleasures, I fancy, lazy as he is. But, of course, you
know all about him."

"No, really," said Deronda, in an indifferent tone. "I know little more
of him than that he is Sir Hugo's nephew."

But now the door opened and deferred any satisfaction of Mr.
Vandernoodt's communicativeness.

The scene was one to set off any figure of distinction that entered on
it, and certainly when Mr. and Mrs. Grandcourt entered, no beholder
could deny that their figures had distinction. The bridegroom ha