t sees me meanwhile?"

The parlour-maid looked blank. Mr. Elliot had not said so. He had been
with Mrs. Elliot and Mr. Pembroke in the study. Now the gentlemen had
gone upstairs.

"All right, I can wait." After all, Rickie was treating him as he had
treated Rickie, as one in the grave, to whom it is futile to make any
loving motion. Gone upstairs--to brush his hair for dinner! The irony
of the situation appealed to him strongly. It reminded him of the Greek
Drama, where the actors know so little and the spectators so much.

"But, by the bye," he called after Stephen, "I think I ought to tell
you--don't--"

"What is it?"

"Don't--" Then he was silent. He had been tempted to explain everything,
to tell the fellow how things stood, that he must avoid this if he
wanted to attain that; that he must break the news to Rickie gently;
that he must have at least one battle royal with Agnes. But it was
contrary to his own spirit to coach people: he held the human soul to
be a very delicate thing, which can receive eternal damage from a little
patronage. Stephen must go into the house simply as himself, for thus
alone would he remain there.

"I ought to knock my pipe out? Was that it?" "By no means. Go in, your
pipe and you."

He hesitated, torn between propriety and desire. Then he followed the
parlour-maid into the house smoking. As he entered the dinner-bell rang,
and there was the sound of rushing feet, which died away into shuffling
and silence. Through the window of the boys' dining-hall came the
colourless voice of Rickie--"'Benedictus benedicat.'"

Ansell prepared himself to witness the second act of the drama;
forgetting that all this world, and not part of it, is a stage.

XXVII

The parlour-maid took Mr. Wonham to the study. He had been in the
drawing-room before, but had got bored, and so had strolled out into
the garden. Now he was in better spirits, as a man ought to be who has
knocked down a man. As he passed through the hall he sparred at the
teak monkey, and hung his cap on the bust of Hermes. And he greeted Mrs.
Elliot with a pleasant clap of laughter. "Oh, I've come with the most
tremendous news!" he cried.

She bowed, but did not shake hands, which rather surprised him. But
he never troubled over "details." He seldom watched people, and never
thought that they were watching him. Nor could he guess how much it
meant to her that he should enter her presence smoking. Had she not
said once at Cado