town, from the "place" to such
another "place," and so on. Mr. Musselwhite was undisguisedly grateful
for every remark or question that kept him talking at his ease. It was
always his dread lest a subject should be broached on which he could
say nothing whatever--there were so many such!--and as often as Barbara
broke a silence without realizing his fear, he glanced at her with the
gentlest and most amiable smile. Never more than glanced; yet this did
not seem to be the result of shyness; rather it indicated a lack of
mental activity, of speculation, of interest in her as a human being.

One morning he lingered at the luncheon-table when nearly all the
others had withdrawn, playing with crumbs, and doubtless shrinking from
the _ennui_ that lay before him until dinner-time. Near him, Mrs.
Denyer, Barbara, and Zillah were standing in conversation about some
photographs that had this morning come by post.

"This one isn't at all like you, my dear," said Mrs. Denyer, with
emphasis, to her eldest girl. "The other is passable, but I wouldn't
have any of these."

"Well, of course I am no judge," replied Barbara, "but I can't agree
with you. I much prefer this one."

Mr. Musselwhite was slowly rising.

"Let us take some one else's opinion," said the mother. "I wonder what
Mr. Musselwhite would say?"

The mention of his name caused him to turn his head, half absently,
with an inquiring smile. Barbara withdrew a step, but Mrs. Denyer, in
the most natural way possible, requested Mr. Musselwhite's judgment on
the portraits under discussion.

He took the two in his hands, and, after inspecting them, looked round
to make comparison with the original. Barbara met his gaze placidly,
with gracefully poised head, her hands joined behind her. It was such a
long time before the arbiter found anything to remark, that the
situation became a little embarrassing; Zillah laughed girlishly, and
her sister's eyes fell.

"Really, it's very hard to decide," said Mr. Musselwhite at length,
with grave conscientiousness. "I think they're both remarkably good. I
really think I should have some of both."

"Barbara thinks that this makes her look too childish," said Mrs.
Denyer, using her daughter's name with a pleasant familiarity.

Again Mr. Musselwhite made close comparison. It was, in fact, the first
time that he had seen the girl's features; hitherto they had been, like
everything else not embalmed in his memory, a mere vague perception,