the gentleman answered, with cool negligence. "Obliged in
one sense. I have not seen Priscilla for a week."

The handsome, strongly-marked old eyebrows went up.

"For a week," remarked their owner, quite sharply. "A long time to be
absent."

It was rather unpleasant, Theodora thought, that they should both seem
so thoroughly at liberty to say what they pleased before her, as if she
was a child. Their first words had sufficed to show her that "Miss
Gower's"--wherever Miss Gower's might be, or whatever order of place it
was--was a very objectionable place in Lady Throckmorton's eyes.

"Well--yes," he said again. "It is rather a long time, to tell the
truth."

He seemed determined that the matter should rest here, for he changed
the subject at once, having made this reply, thereby proving to Theo
that he was used to having his own way, even with Lady Throckmorton. He
was hard-worked, it seemed, from what he said, and had a great deal of
writing to do. He was inclined to be satirical, too, in a careless
fashion, and knew quite a number of literary people, and said a great
many sharp things about them, as if he was used to them, and stood in no
awe whatever of them and their leonine greatness. But he did not talk to
her, though he looked at her now and then; and whenever he looked at
her, his glance was a half-admiring one, even while it was evident that
he was not thinking much about her. He did not remain with them very
long, scarcely an hour, and yet she was almost sorry to see him go. It
was so pleasant to sit silent and listen to these two worldly ones, as
they talked about their world. But he had promised Priscilla that he
would bring her a Greek grammar she required; and a broken promise was a
sin unpardonable in Priscilla's eyes.

When he was gone, and they had heard the hall-door close upon him, the
stillness was broken in upon by my lady herself.

"Well, my dear," she said, to Theodora. "What is your opinion of Mr.
Denis Oglethorpe?"

"He is very handsome," said Theo, in some slight embarrassment. "And I
think I like him very much. Who is Priscilla, aunt?"

She knew that she had said something amusing by Lady Throckmorton's
laughing quietly.

"You are very like Pamela, Theodora," she said. "It sounds very like
Pamela--what Pamela used to be--to be interested in Priscilla."

"I hope it wasn't rude?" fluttered the poor little rose-colored sultana.

"Not at all," answered Lady Throckmorton. "Only innoce