his long fingers horizontally, now
pointing downward with his fore-finger, now folding his arms and
tossing his mane, while he addressed himself first to one and then to
the other, including Grandcourt, who listened with an impassive face
and narrow eyes, his left fore-finger in his waistcoat-pocket, and his
right slightly touching his thin whisker.

"I wonder which style Miss Arrowpoint admires most," was a thought that
glanced through Gwendolen's mind, while her eyes and lips gathered
rather a mocking expression. But she would not indulge her sense of
amusement by watching, as if she were curious, and she gave all her
animation to those immediately around her, determined not to care
whether Mr. Grandcourt came near her again or not.

He did not come, however, and at a moment when he could propose to
conduct Mrs. Davilow to her carriage, "Shall we meet again in the
ball-room?" she said as he raised his hat at parting. The "yes" in
reply had the usual slight drawl and perfect gravity.

"You were wrong for once Gwendolen," said Mrs. Davilow, during their
few minutes' drive to the castle.

"In what, mamma?"

"About Mr. Grandcourt's appearance and manners. You can't find anything
ridiculous in him."

"I suppose I could if I tried, but I don't want to do it," said
Gwendolen, rather pettishly; and her mother was afraid to say more.

It was the rule on these occasions for the ladies and gentlemen to dine
apart, so that the dinner might make a time of comparative ease and
rest for both. Indeed, the gentlemen had a set of archery stories about
the epicurism of the ladies, who had somehow been reported to show a
revolting masculine judgment in venison, even asking for the fat--a
proof of the frightful rate at which corruption might go on in women,
but for severe social restraint, and every year the amiable Lord
Brackenshaw, who was something of a _gourmet_, mentioned Byron's
opinion that a woman should never be seen eating,--introducing it with
a confidential--"The fact is" as if he were for the first time
admitting his concurrence in that sentiment of the refined poet.

In the ladies' dining-room it was evident that Gwendolen was not a
general favorite with her own sex: there were no beginnings of intimacy
between her and other girls, and in conversation they rather noticed
what she said than spoke to her in free exchange. Perhaps it was that
she was not much interested in them, and when left alone in their
company h