eyes, my uncle cleared his throat once
or twice, as if to speak. He was smiling--I thought with an effort, and
with elevated brows. When I concluded, he hummed one of those sliding
notes, which a less refined man might have expressed by a whistle of
surprise and contempt, and again he essayed to speak, but continued silent.
The fact is, he seemed to me very much disconcerted. He rose from his seat,
and shuffled about the room in his slippers, I believe affecting only to
be in search of something, opening and shutting two or three drawers, and
turning over some books and papers; and at length, taking up some loose
sheets of manuscript, he appeared to have found what he was looking for,
and began to read them carelessly, with his back towards me, and with
another effort to clear his voice, he said at last--

'And pray, what could the fool mean by all that?'

'I think he must have taken me for an idiot, sir,' I answered.

'Not unlikely. He has lived in a stable, among horses and ostlers; he has
always seemed to me something like a centaur--that is a centaur composed
not of man and horse, but of an ape and an ass.'

And upon this jibe he laughed, not coldly and sarcastically, as was his
wont, but, I thought, flurriedly. And, continuing to look into his papers,
he said, his back still toward me as he read--

'And he did not favour you with an exposition of his meaning, which, except
in so far as it estimated his deserts at the modest sum you have
named, appears to me too oracular to be interpreted without a kindred
inspiration?'

And again he laughed. He was growing more like himself.

'As to your visiting your cousin, Lady Knollys, the stupid rogue had only
five minutes before heard me express my wish that you should do so before
leaving this. I am quite resolved you shall--that is, unless, dear Maud,
you should yourself object; but, of course, we must wait for an invitation,
which, I conjecture, will not be long in coming. In fact, your letter
will naturally bring it about, and, I trust, open the way to a permanent
residence with her. The more I think it over, the more am I convinced, dear
niece, that as things are likely to turn out, my roof would be no desirable
shelter for you; and that, under all circumstances, hers would. Such were
my motives, Maud, in opening, through your letter, a door of reconciliation
between us.'

I felt that I ought to have kissed his hand--that he had indicated
precisely the future th