"That's right, that's right!" he exclaimed twice, approvingly. "And so
you have been looked after by...." He frowned slightly at the
_dame de compagnie_, who was still nursing the cat. "I conclude
Eleanor--Madame de S-- is engaged. I know she expected somebody to-day.
So the newspaper man did turn up, eh? She is engaged?"

For all answer the _dame de compagnie_ turned away her head.

"It is very unfortunate--very unfortunate indeed. I very much regret
that you should have been...." He lowered suddenly his voice. "But
what is it--surely you are not departing, Natalia Victorovna? You got
bored waiting, didn't you?"

"Not in the least," Miss Haldin protested. "Only I have been here some
time, and I am anxious to get back to my mother."

"The time seemed long, eh? I am afraid our worthy friend here" (Peter
Ivanovitch suddenly jerked his head sideways towards his right shoulder
and jerked it up again),--"our worthy friend here has not the art of
shortening the moments of waiting. No, distinctly she has not the art;
and in that respect good intentions alone count for nothing."

The _dame de compagnie_ dropped her arms, and the cat found itself
suddenly on the ground. It remained quite still after alighting, one
hind leg stretched backwards. Miss Haldin was extremely indignant on
behalf of the lady companion.

"Believe me, Peter Ivanovitch, that the moments I have passed in
the hall of this house have been not a little interesting, and very
instructive too. They are memorable. I do not regret the waiting, but
I see that the object of my call here can be attained without taking up
Madame de S--'s time."

At this point I interrupted Miss Haldin. The above relation is founded
on her narrative, which I have not so much dramatized as might be
supposed. She had rendered, with extraordinary feeling and animation,
the very accent almost of the disciple of the old apple-woman, the
irreconcilable hater of Ministries, the voluntary servant of the poor.
Miss Haldin's true and delicate humanity had been extremely shocked
by the uncongenial fate of her new acquaintance, that lady companion,
secretary, whatever she was. For my own part, I was pleased to discover
in it one more obstacle to intimacy with Madame de S--. I had a
positive abhorrence for the painted, bedizened, dead-faced, glassy-eyed
Egeria of Peter Ivanovitch. I do not know what was her attitude to the
unseen, but I know that in the affairs of this world she was avarici