, unstable
quality of life; the rapid, inconsequent changes; yet it was also this
very quality of transformation that most stirred and delighted her.

And to-night it was not the picture exhibition, nor the function itself
that elated her, but the fancy she had as she looked over the moving
mass below her that the crowning excitement of the day, the vanishing
mystery, hovered over them all. It was fantastic, but it persisted; for
had not the Chatworth ring itself proved that the most ordinary
appearances might cover unimagined wonders? Which of those bland,
satisfied faces might not change shockingly at the whisper "Chatworth"
in its ear? She wanted to confide the naughty thought to Harry. But no,
he wasn't the one. If Harry were apprehensive of anything at all it was
only of being caught in too hot a crush. He saw no possibilities in the
mob below except boredom. He saw no possibilities in the evening but his
conventional duty; and Flora could read in his eye his intention of
getting through that as comfortably as possible. His suggestion that
they have a look at the pictures brought the two women's eyes together
in a rare gleam of mutual mirth. They knew he suspected that the picture
gallery would be the emptiest place in the club, since to have a look at
the pictures was what they were all supposed to be there for. That was
so infallibly the note of their life, Flora thought, as she followed up
the wide sweep of the middle stair, and along the high-ceiled, gilded
hall whose open arches overlooked the rooms below.

The picture gallery was new, an addition; and the plain, narrow,
unexpected door in this place, where all was high, arched, elaborate
and flourished, was like a loophole through which to slip into a foreign
atmosphere. This atmosphere was resinous of fresh wood; the light was
thick with drifting motes; the carpets harshly new, slipping beneath the
feet on the too polished floor; the bare bones of the place yet scarcely
covered. But its quiet was after all comparative. There were plenty of
people lingering in groups in the center of the gallery which was dusky,
eclipsed by the great reflectors that circled the room, throwing out the
pictures in a bright band of color around the walls. People leaning from
this border of light back into the dusk to murmur together, vanished and
reappeared with such fascinating abruptness that Flora caught herself
guessing what sort of face, where this nearest group stood just