in the morning, and she did not
in the least regard how Mr. Moss might waste his time. And she had to
think of many things before she could go down to meet him. Meditating
upon it all, she was inclined to think that the interview was
intended as hostile to M. Le Gros. M. Le Gros would be represented,
no doubt, as a Jew twice more Jewish than Mr. Moss himself. But
Rachel had a strong idea that M. Le Gros was a very nice old French
gentleman. When he had uttered all those "ve-rys," one after another
with still increasing emphasis, Rachel had no doubt believed them
all. And she was taking great trouble with herself, practising every
day for two hours together, with a looking-glass before her on the
pianoforte, as Mr. Moss had made her quite understand that the
opening of her mouth wide was the chief qualification necessary to
her, beyond that which nature had done for her. Rachel did think it
possible that she might become the undoubted prima donna of the day,
as M. Le Gros had called her; and she thought it much more probable
that she should do so under the auspices of M. Le Gros, than those of
Mr. Moss. When, therefore, she went down at last to the sitting-room,
she did so, determined to oppose Mr. Moss, as bidding for her voice,
rather than as a candidate for her love. When she entered the room,
she could not help beginning with something of an apology, in that
she had kept the man waiting; but Mr. Moss soon stopped her. "It
does not signify the least in the world," he said, laying his hand
upon his waistcoat. "If only I can get this opportunity of speaking
to you while your father is present." Then, when she looked at the
brilliance of his garments, and heard the tones of his voice, she was
sure that the attack on this occasion was not to be made on M. Le
Gros. She remained silent, and sat square on her chair, looking at
him. A man must be well-versed in feminine wiles, who could decipher
under Rachel's manners her determination to look as ugly as possible
on the occasion. In a moment she had flattened every jaunty twist
and turn out of her habiliments, and had given to herself an air of
absolute dowdyism. Her father sat by without saying a word. "Miss
O'Mahony, if I may venture to ask a question, I trust you may not be
offended."

"I suppose not as my father is present," she replied.

"Am I right in believing the engagement to be over which bound you to
Mr.--Jones?"

"You are," said Rachel, quite out loud, giving