than a word to say for yourself."

By that time Lefevre and Julius were seated, and the carriage was
rolling along towards the Park. Julius sat immediately opposite Lady
Lefevre, but he included both her and Nora in his talk and his bright
glances. The doctor sat agreeably suffused with delight and wonder. No
one, as has been seen, had a higher opinion of Courtney's rare powers,
or had had more various evidence of them, than Lefevre, but even he had
never known his friend so brilliant. He was instinct with life and
eloquence. His face shone as with an inner light, and his talk was
bright, searching, and ironical. The amazing thing, however, was that
Julius had as stimulating and intoxicating an influence on Nora as, it
was clear, Nora had on him. His sister had not appeared to Lefevre
hitherto more than a beautiful, healthy, shy girl of tolerable
intelligence; now she showed that she had brilliance and wit, and,
moreover, that she understood Julius as one native of a strange realm
understands another. When they entered the Park, they were the observed
of all. And, indeed, Leonora Lefevre was a vision to excite the worship
of those least inclined to idolatry of Nature. She was of the noblest
type of English beauty, and she seemed as calmly unconscious of its
excellence and rarity as one of the grand Greek women of the Parthenon.
She had, however, a sensuous fulness and bloom, a queenly carriage of
head and neck, a clearness of feature, and a liquid kindness of eye that
suggested a deep potentiality of passion.

They drove round the Row, and round again, and they talked and laughed
their fill of wisdom and frivolity and folly. To be foolish wisely and
gracefully is a rare attainment. When they had almost completed their
third round, Julius (who had finished a marvellous story of a fairy
princess and a cat) said, "I can see you are fond of beasts, Miss
Lefevre. I should like to take you to the Zoological Gardens and show
you my favourites there. May we go now, Lady Lefevre?"

"By all means," said Lady Lefevre, "let us go. What do you say, John?"

"Oh, wherever you like, mother," answered her son.

Arrived in the Gardens, Julius took possession of his companions, and
exerted all his arts to charm and fascinate. He led the ladies from cage
to cage, from enclosure to enclosure, showed himself as familiar with
the characters and habits of their wild denizens as a farmer is with
those of his stock, and they responded to his