he
cared for Teresa Mallison!

The door opened, and Teresa was announced. She had discarded her coat
and appeared in a short dark skirt, and a white blouse, transparent at
the neck, and displaying a goodly length of bare brown arms. Her feet
looked disproportionately large in walking shoes, and there was a hint
of the provincial in her gait. One descried at a glance that it was not
often her lot to make an entrance into so stately a room. Cassandra
rose to greet her with an involuntary feeling of commiseration. A few
minutes before she had come near grudging the girl her good fortune, now
at the sight of her, her heart melted with pity. So _gauche_, so raw!
The heavy looks, the reddened arms. Cassandra's fastidious eye took in
the blemishes at a glance, and the feminine in her rose on the girl's
behalf. She placed her on the corner of the sofa, nearest the softly
tinted light, moved a table to her side, with a deft hand twitched away
a dark cushion and substituted one of a vivid blue. The effect was
transforming, for once the dark skirt was hidden from sight the filmy
blouse became at once dainty and appropriate, while the softened light
showed to advantage the gleam in the fair, coiled hair, the youthful
pink and white of the complexion. Cassandra glanced at Peignton to see
if he appreciated the picture; and discovered him leaning forward,
looking into the girl's face with pleasure and admiration. Teresa was
smiling back, and showing her large white teeth. Cassandra squeezed her
lips into a tight little knot, and told herself she was very pleased.
But _how foolish_ they looked!

Bernard came in, and sat himself down with deliberation. He enjoyed
afternoon tea, insisted on having a table to himself, and a supply of
hot buttered toast. Hardly a day passed that he did not ask for a
second supply, and give instructions as to liberality with the butter.
He drank three cups of tea, and helped himself largely to cream. And
then he wondered that he grew stout! Cassandra nibbled daintily at
minute wafers of bread, and the girl on the sofa ate sweet cakes with
youthful relish.

"What's the news, Miss Mallison?" Bernard asked between his mouthfuls
of toast. It was a question which he never failed to ask, and Teresa
Mallison's replies never failed to evoke the expected amusement. She
believed so implicitly that he was interested in the doings of that
dead-alive little hole, and brought out her little items w