arison in Christina's mind, and indeed
she made none; but women's eyes are sometimes sharp to see feminine
beauty; and she confessed that Dolly's was uncommon, not merely in
degree but in kind. There was nothing conventional about it; there
never had been; her curling hair took a wayward way of its own; her
brown eyes had a look of thoughtfulness mingled with childlike
innocence; they always had it more or less; now the wisdom was more
sweet and the innocence more spiritual. Her figure and her manner were
all in harmony, wearing unconscious grace and a very simple, free
dignity.

"We cannot go to Paestum at this season of the year, they say,"
Christina began again, at a distance from her thoughts; "but one _can_
go to the Punta di Campanella and Monte San Costanzo; and as soon as
Sandie comes, we will. We will wait a day for him first."

Dolly was quite willing to wait for him; for, to tell the truth, one of
her pleasures in the thought of this visit had been the possibility of
seeing Mr. Shubrick again. She did not say so, however; and the two
girls presently went back to the hall. This was a luxurious apartment,
occupying the centre of the house; octagonal, and open to the outer
world both at front and back. Warm and yet fresh air was playing
through it; the odours of flowers filled it; the most commodious of
light chairs and settees furnished it; and scattered about the wide,
delicious space were the various members of the party. Mrs. Thayer and
Mrs. Copley had been sitting together; just now, as the girls entered,
Mrs. Thayer called St. Leger to her.

"I am delighted to see you here, Mr. St. Leger," she said graciously.
"You know your father was a very old friend of mine."

"That gives me a sort of claim to your present kindness," said St.
Leger.

"You might put in a claim to kindness anywhere," returned the lady.
"Don't you get it, now, if you tell the truth?"

"I have no reason to complain--in general," said the young man, smiling.

"You are a little like your father. He was another. We were great
cronies when I was a girl. In fact, he was an old beau of mine. We used
to see a vast deal of each other;--flirting, I suppose you would call
it; but how are young people to get along without flirting? I liked him
very much, for I always had a fancy for handsome men; and if you ask
him, he will tell you that I was handsome too at that time. Oh, I was!
you may look at me and be incredulous; but I was a belle in th