nt, of his placing himself on the defensive. To
neither of us was Mr. Searle sympathetic. I might have guessed from her
attitude that his sister entered into our thoughts. A marked change had
been wrought in her since the morning; during the hour, indeed--as
I read in the light of the wondering glance he cast at her--that had
elapsed since her parting with her cousin. She had not yet recovered
from some great agitation. Her face was pale and she had clearly
been crying. These notes of trouble gave her a new and quite perverse
dignity, which was further enhanced by something complimentary and
commemorative in her dress.

Whether it was taste or whether it was accident I know not; but the
amiable creature, as she stood there half in the cool twilight, half in
the arrested glow of the fire as it spent itself in the vastness of its
marble cave, was a figure for a painter. She was habited in some faded
splendour of sea-green crape and silk, a piece of millinery which,
though it must have witnessed a number of dull dinners, preserved still
a festive air. Over her white shoulders she wore an ancient web of the
most precious and venerable lace and about her rounded throat a single
series of large pearls. I went in with her to dinner, and Mr. Searle,
following with my friend, took his arm, as the latter afterwards told
me, and pretended jocosely to conduct him. As dinner proceeded the
feeling grew within me that a drama had begun to be played in which the
three persons before me were actors--each of a really arduous part. The
character allotted to my friend, however, was certainly the least easy
to represent with effect, though I overflowed with the desire that he
should acquit himself to his honour. I seemed to see him urge his faded
faculties to take their cue and perform. The poor fellow tried to do
himself credit more seriously than ever in his old best days. With Miss
Searle, credulous passive and pitying, he had finally flung aside all
vanity and propriety and shown the bottom of his fantastic heart.
But with our host there might be no talking of nonsense nor taking
of liberties; there and then, if ever, sat a consummate conservative,
breathing the fumes of hereditary privilege and security. For an hour,
accordingly, I saw my poor protege attempt, all in pain, to meet a new
decorum. He set himself the task of appearing very American, in order
that his appreciation of everything Mr. Searle represented might seem
purely disi