rm grasp of his hand. She
saw that her mother and Daisy were quiet and subdued--that was a good
thing. She caught, before she sat down, his instinctive look of
surprise. She knew that he had not expected her to be like that.

"We've been telling Mr. Breton, Lizzie," said Mrs. Rand, "all about the
theatres. He's been away so long that he's quite out of touch with
things."

Lizzie always knew when her mother was finding conversation difficult by
the amount of enthusiasm and surprise that she put into her sentences.

"So terrible it must be to have missed so many splendid things."

"I assure you, Mrs. Rand," said Breton, "that I've been seeing other
splendid things in other countries. Now I'm ready for this one again."

Mrs. Rand was silent and at a loss. Lizzie knew the explanation of this.
Her mother had been trying to venture on to the subject of Breton's
family and had found unexpected difficulty. Perhaps there had been
something in Breton's attitude that had warned her.

They talked for a little while, but disjointedly. Then suddenly there
was a knock at the door, and young Mr. Caesar, a bony youth with a high
collar and an unsuccessful moustache, came in. He had not very much to
say, but the result of his coming was that Lizzie found herself standing
at the window with Breton; they looked at the square now sinking into
dusk.

He spoke; his voice was lowered: "I understand that you are secretary to
my aunt, Miss Rand?"

"Yes," she said.

"They haven't heard of my return with any great delight, I'm afraid?"

She noticed that he was trying to steady his voice, but that it shook a
little in spite of his efforts.

"I don't know," she said, looking up and smiling. "I'm far too busy to
think of things that are not my concern."

"They are giving a ball to-morrow night for my cousin?"

"Yes."

"Do you see much of her?"

"No--nothing at all. She's been abroad, you know."

"Yes, so I heard. But I saw her driving yesterday. She looks different
from the rest of them."

All this time, as he spoke to her, she was conscious of his eyes; if
only she could have been sure that the protest in them was genuine she
would have been moved by them.

She did not help him in any way, and perhaps her silence made him feel
that he had done wrong to speak to her about his affairs. They looked at
the square for a little time in silence. At last, speaking without any
implied fierceness, he said:

"You know, Miss Rand, I'm a