the straight, regular features, which with her
were brightened by a tender play of emotion, were, with him, cold and
grave. The mouth was a fastidious one; the bearing of the man, though
full of distinction, could sometimes be almost repellantly haughty. The
merest sketch of him would not be complete unless we added that his
dress was faultless, and that he was apt to bestow a somewhat finical
care upon the minor details of his toilet.

It was in October, when "everybody" was still supposed to be out of
town, that Rupert Vivian walked composedly down Gower-street meditating
on the news which the latest post had brought him. In sheer absence of
mind he almost passed the house at which he had been intending to call,
and he stood for a minute or two upon the steps, as if not quite sure
whether or no he would enter. Finally, however, he knocked at the door
and rang the bell, then prepared himself, with a resigned air, to wait
until it should be opened. He had never yet found that a first summons
gained him admittance to that house.

After waiting five minutes and knocking twice, a slatternly maid
appeared and asked him to walk upstairs. Rupert followed her leisurely;
he knew very well what sort of reception to expect, and was not
surprised when she merely opened the drawing-room door, and left him to
announce himself. "No ceremony" was the rule in the Herons' household,
and very objectionable Rupert Vivian sometimes found it.

The day had been foggy and dark, and a bright fire threw a cheerful
light over the scene which presented itself to Rupert's eyes. A pleasant
clinking of spoons and cups and saucers met his ear. He stood at the
door for a moment unobserved, listening and looking on. He was a
privileged person in that house, and considered himself quite at liberty
to look and listen if he chose.

The room had an air of comfort verging upon luxury, but if was untidy to
a degree which Rupert thought disgraceful. For the rich hues of the
curtains, the artistic character of the Japanese screens and Oriental
embroideries, the exquisite landscape-paintings on the walls, were
compatible with grave deficiencies in the list of more ordinary articles
of furniture. There were two or three picturesque, high-backed chairs,
made of rosewood (black with age) and embossed leather, but the rest of
the seats consisted of divans, improvised by ingenious fingers out of
packing-boxes and cushions covered with Morris chintzes; or brown
W