chiefly of her,
whilst she thought of Alan's possible embarrassment, which she did her
best to overcome, with the ready tact of an unselfish woman.

Alan had grown doubly sensitive of late, and his one idea had been that
Lettice must be preserved from all danger of annoyance, whether by the
abandoned woman who had so amply proved the shrewdness of her malice, or
by himself--who had no less amply proved his weakness. In pure
generosity of mind he would have contented himself with a few grave
words, and passed on. But it seemed to her as if he had not the courage
to remain, taking for granted her resentment at his unfortunate letter.
To her pure mind there was not enough, even in that letter, to cause
complete estrangement between them. At any rate, it was not in her to
impose the estrangement by any display of anger or unkindness. The
sublime courage of innocence was upon her as she spoke.

"See," she said, "the professor is going to begin. The people are taking
their seats, and if we do not follow their example all the chairs will
be filled, and we shall have to stand for an hour. Let us sit down."

She just glanced at Alan, so that he could regard himself as included in
the invitation; and, nothing loth, he sat down beside her. The lecturer
did not start for another ten minutes, and Lettice occupied the interval
by comparing notes with Clara Graham: for these two dearly loved a
gossip in which they could dissect the characters of the men they knew,
and the appearance of the women they did not know. It was a perfectly
harmless practice as indulged in by them, for their criticism was not
malicious. The men, after one or two commonplaces, relapsed into
silence, and Alan was able to collect his thoughts, and at the same time
to realize how much happiness the world might yet have in store for him,
since this one woman, who knew the worst of him, did not think it
necessary to keep him at a distance.

Then the professor began to speak. He was a small and feeble man, wheezy
in his delivery, and, it must be confessed, rather confused in his
ideas. He had been invited to make plain to an audience, presumably well
read and instructed, the historical bearings of certain recent
discoveries in Egypt; and the task was somewhat difficult for him. There
were seven theories, all more or less plausible, which had been started
by as many learned Egyptologists; and this worthy old gentleman, though
quite as competent to give an opinion,