ion, of the diplomatist. Julius March, accompanied by
Camp--still carrying his tail limp and his great head rather
sulkily--brought up the rear. And Dickie, while greeting his guests,
disposing their places at table, making civil speeches to his immediate
neighbour on the left,--Lady Louisa,--smiling a good-morning to his
mother down the length of the table, felt a wave of childish
disappointment sweep over him. For Helen came not, and with a great
desiring he desired her. Poor Dickie, so wise, so philosophic in fancy,
so enviably, disastrously young in fact!

"Oh! thanks, Lady Louisa--it's so extremely kind of you to care to
come. The fog was rather beastly this morning wasn't it? And I
shouldn't be surprised if it came down on us again about sunset. But
it's a charming day meanwhile.--There Ludovic please,--next Dr. Knott.
We'll leave this chair for Madame de Vallorbes. She's coming, I
suppose?"

And Richard glanced towards the door again, and, so doing, became aware
that little Lady Constance, sitting between Lord Fallowfeild and Julius
March, was staring at him. She had an innocent face, a small, feminine
copy of her father's save that her eyes were set noticeably far apart.
This gave her a slow, ruminant look, distinctly attractive. She
reminded Richard of a gentle, well-conditioned, sweet-breathed calf
staring over a bank among ox-eyed daisies and wild roses. As soon as
she perceived--but Lady Constance did not perceive anything very
rapidly--that he observed her, she gave her whole attention, to the
contents of her plate and her colour deepened perceptibly.

"Pretty country about you here, uncommonly pretty," Lord Fallowfeild
was saying in response to some remark of Lady Calmady's. "Always did
admire it. Always liked a meet on this side of the county when I had
the hounds. Very pleasant friendly spirit on this side too. Now
Cathcart, for instance--sensible fellow Cathcart, always have liked
Cathcart, remarkably sensible fellow. Plain man though--quite
astonishingly plain. Daughter very much like him, I remember.
Misfortune for a girl that. Always feel very much for a plain woman.
She married well though--can't recall who just now, but somebody we all
know. Who was it now, Lady Calmady?"

Between that haunting sense of embarrassment, and the kindly wish to
carry things off well, and promote geniality, Lord Fallowfeild spoke
loud. At this juncture Mr. Quayle folded his hands and raised his eyes
devoutly to hea