not Emma
Vine dressed as he was accustomed to see her; suppose her possessed of
all Adela Waltham's exterior advantages. As his imagination was working
on the hint, Adela herself addressed a question to him. He looked up,
he let her voice repeat itself in inward echo. His ears were still more
disagreeably warm.

It was a lovely day--warm enough to dine with the windows open. The
faintest air seemed to waft sunlight from corner to corner of the room;
numberless birds sang on the near boughs and hedges; the flowers on the
table were like a careless gift of gold-hearted prodigal summer. Richard
transferred himself in spirit to a certain square on the borders of
Hoxton and Islington, within scent of the Regent's Canal. The house
there was now inhabited by Emma and her sisters; they also would be at
dinner. Suppose he had the choice: there or here? Adela addressed to him
another question. The square vanished into space.

How often he had spoken scornfully of that word 'lady'! Were not all
of the sex women? What need for that hateful distinction? Richard tried
another experiment with his imagination. 'I had dinner with some people
called Waltham last Sunday. The old woman I didn't much care about; but
there was a young woman--' Well, why not? On the other hand, suppose
Emma Vine called at his lodgings. 'A young woman called this morning,
sir--' Well, why not?

Dessert was on the table. He saw Adela's fingers take an orange, her
other hand holding a little fruit-knife. Now, who could have imagined
that the simple paring of an orange could be achieved at once with such
consummate grace and so naturally? In Richard's country they first bite
off a fraction of the skin, then dig away with what of finger-nail may
be available. He knew someone who would assuredly proceed in that way.

Metamorphosis! Richard Mutimer speculates on asthetic problems.

'You, gentlemen, I dare say will be wicked enough to smoke,' remarked
Mrs. Waltham, as she rose from the table.

'I tell you what we shall be wicked enough to do, mother,' exclaimed
Alfred. 'We shall have two cups of coffee brought out into the garden,
and spare your furniture!'

'Very well, my son. Your _two_ cups evidently mean that Adela and I are
not invited to the garden.'

'Nothing of the kind. But I know you always go to sleep, and Adela
doesn't like tobacco smoke.'

'I go to sleep, Alfred! You know very well that I have a very different
occupation for my Sunday afternoo