sibilities of mankind. Lady
Engleton thought the Professor crude in taste, and shallow in knowledge,
on this point.

"And yet you appreciate so keenly my old enamels, and your eye seeks
out, in a minute, a picturesque roof or gable."

"Perhaps Theobald leans to the picturesque and does not care for the
classic," suggested his colleague; "a fundamental distinction in mental
bias."

"Then why does he enjoy so much of the _Renaissance_ work on caskets and
goblets? He was raving about them last night in the choicest English."

Lady Engleton crossed over to speak to Miss Du Prel. Professor Theobald
approached Mrs. Temperley and Joseph Fleming. Hadria knew by some
instinct that the Professor had been waiting for an opportunity to speak
to her. As he drew near, a feeling of intense enmity arose within her,
which reached its highest pitch when he addressed her in a fine,
low-toned voice of peculiarly fascinating quality. Every instinct rose
up as if in warning. He sat down beside her, and began to talk about
the Priory and its history. His ability was obvious, even in his choice
of words and his selection of incidents. He had the power of making dry
archaeological facts almost dramatic. His speech differed from that of
most men, in the indefinable manner wherein excellence differs from
mediocrity. Yet Hadria was glad to notice some equally indefinable lack,
corresponding perhaps to the gap in his consciousness that Lady Engleton
had come upon in their discussions on the general principles of art.
What was it? A certain stilted, unreal quality? Scarcely. Words refused
to fit themselves to the evasive form. Something that suggested the term
"second class," though whether it were the manner or the substance that
was responsible for the impression, was difficult to say.

Sometimes his words allowed two possible interpretations to be put upon
a sentence. He was a master of the ambiguous. Obviously it was not lack
of skill that produced the double-faced phrases.

He did not leave his listeners long in doubt as to his personal history.
He enjoyed talking about himself. He was a Professor of archaeology, and
had written various learned books on the subject. But his studies had by
no means been confined to the one theme. History had also interested him
profoundly. He had published a work on the old houses of England. The
Priory figured among them. It was not difficult to discover from the
conversation of this singular man, whose s