uneasy about her."

Irene tried to win the sufferer's confidence, but without success. Mrs.
Hannaford became irritable, and withdrew as much as possible from sight.

The girl had her own trouble, and it was one she must needs keep to
herself. She shrank from the next meeting with Arnold Jacks, which
could not long be postponed. It took place three days after her return,
when Arnold and Mrs. Jacks dined in Bryanston Square. John Jacks was to
have come, but excused himself on the plea of indisposition. As might
have been expected of him, Arnold was absolute discretion; he looked
and spoke, perhaps, a trifle more gaily than usual, but to Irene showed
no change of demeanour, and conversed with her no more than was
necessary. Irene felt grateful, and once more tried to convince herself
that she had done nothing irreparable. In fact, as in assertion, she
was free. The future depended entirely on her own will and pleasure.
That her mind was ceaselessly preoccupied with Arnold could only be
deemed natural, for she had to come to a decision within three or four
weeks' time. But--if necessary the respite should be prolonged.

Eustace Derwent dined with them, and Irene noticed--what had occurred
to her before now--that the young man seemed to have particular
pleasure in the society of Mrs. Jacks; he conversed with her more
naturally, more variously, than with any other lady of his friends; and
Mrs. Jacks, through the unimpeachable correctness of her exterior,
almost allowed it to be suspected that she found a special satisfaction
in listening to him. Eustace was a frequent guest at the Jacks'; yet
there could hardly be much in common between him and the lady's elderly
husband, nor was he on terms of much intimacy with Arnold. Of course
two such excellent persons, such models of decorum, such examples of
the English ideal, masculine and feminine, would naturally see in each
other the most desirable of acquaintances; it was an instance of social
and personal fitness, which the propriety of our national manners
renders as harmless as it is delightful. They talked of art, of
literature, discovering an entire unanimity in their preferences, which
made for the safely conventional. They chatted of common acquaintances,
agreeing that the people they liked were undoubtedly the very nicest
people in their circle, and avoiding in the suavest manner any severity
regarding those they could not approve. When Eustace apologised for
touching o