rs in her eyes.
Madame Munster took each of these young women by the hand, and looked at
them all over. Charlotte thought her very strange-looking and singularly
dressed; she could not have said whether it was well or ill. She was
glad, at any rate, that they had put on their silk gowns--especially
Gertrude. "My cousins are very pretty," said the Baroness, turning her
eyes from one to the other. "Your daughters are very handsome, sir."

Charlotte blushed quickly; she had never yet heard her personal
appearance alluded to in a loud, expressive voice. Gertrude looked
away--not at Felix; she was extremely pleased. It was not the compliment
that pleased her; she did not believe it; she thought herself very
plain. She could hardly have told you the source of her satisfaction;
it came from something in the way the Baroness spoke, and it was not
diminished--it was rather deepened, oddly enough--by the young girl's
disbelief. Mr. Wentworth was silent; and then he asked, formally, "Won't
you come into the house?"

"These are not all; you have some other children," said the Baroness.

"I have a son," Mr. Wentworth answered.

"And why does n't he come to meet me?" Eugenia cried. "I am afraid he is
not so charming as his sisters."

"I don't know; I will see about it," the old man declared.

"He is rather afraid of ladies," Charlotte said, softly.

"He is very handsome," said Gertrude, as loud as she could.

"We will go in and find him. We will draw him out of his cachette." And
the Baroness took Mr. Wentworth's arm, who was not aware that he had
offered it to her, and who, as they walked toward the house, wondered
whether he ought to have offered it and whether it was proper for her to
take it if it had not been offered. "I want to know you well," said the
Baroness, interrupting these meditations, "and I want you to know me."

"It seems natural that we should know each other," Mr. Wentworth
rejoined. "We are near relatives."

"Ah, there comes a moment in life when one reverts, irresistibly, to
one's natural ties--to one's natural affections. You must have found
that!" said Eugenia.

Mr. Wentworth had been told the day before by Felix that Eugenia was
very clever, very brilliant, and the information had held him in some
suspense. This was the cleverness, he supposed; the brilliancy was
beginning. "Yes, the natural affections are very strong," he murmured.

"In some people," the Baroness declared. "Not in all." Charlotte