was expected. Margaret hoped fervently that he
would not come. She had never looked more lovely than on this afternoon,
and she busied herself with the preparations for tea with a housewifely
grace that added a peculiar delicacy to her comeliness. The dignity which
encompassed the perfection of her beauty was delightfully softened, so
that you were reminded of those sweet domestic saints who lighten here
and there the passionate records of the Golden Book.

'_C'est tellement intime ici_,' smiled Dr Porhoet, breaking into French
in the impossibility of expressing in English the exact feeling which
that scene gave him.

It might have been a picture by some master of _genre_. It seemed hardly
by chance that the colours arranged themselves in such agreeable tones,
or that the lines of the wall and the seated persons achieved such a
graceful decoration. The atmosphere was extraordinarily peaceful.

There was a knock at the door, and Arthur got up to open. The terrier
followed at his heels. Oliver Haddo entered. Susie watched to see what
the dog would do and was by this time not surprised to see a change
come over it. With its tail between its legs, the friendly little beast
slunk along the wall to the furthermost corner. It turned a suspicious,
frightened eye upon Haddo and then hid its head. The visitor, intent upon
his greetings, had not noticed even that there was an animal in the room.
He accepted with a simple courtesy they hardly expected from him the
young woman's thanks for his flowers. His behaviour surprised them. He
put aside his poses. He seemed genuinely to admire the cosy little
studio. He asked Margaret to show him her sketches and looked at them
with unassumed interest. His observations were pointed and showed a
certain knowledge of what he spoke about. He described himself as an
amateur, that object of a painter's derision: the man 'who knows what he
likes'; but his criticism, though generous, showed that he was no fool.
The two women were impressed. Putting the sketches aside, he began to
talk, of the many places he had seen. It was evident that he sought to
please. Susie began to understand how it was that, notwithstanding
his affectations, he had acquired so great an influence over the
undergraduates of Oxford. There was romance and laughter in his
conversation; and though, as Frank Hurrell had said, lacking in wit,
he made up for it with a diverting pleasantry that might very well have
passed for humou