forward a little; she remained in profile,
apparently listening to some one on the other side of her. She was
listening, but she was also looking, and after a moment Lyon followed
the direction of her eyes. They rested upon the gentleman who had been
described to him as Colonel Capadose--rested, as it appeared to him,
with a kind of habitual, visible complacency. This was not strange, for
the Colonel was unmistakably formed to attract the sympathetic gaze of
woman; but Lyon was slightly disappointed that she could let _him_ look
at her so long without giving him a glance. There was nothing between
them to-day and he had no rights, but she must have known he was coming
(it was of course not such a tremendous event, but she could not have
been staying in the house without hearing of it), and it was not natural
that that should absolutely fail to affect her.

She was looking at Colonel Capadose as if she were in love with him--a
queer accident for the proudest, most reserved of women. But doubtless
it was all right, if her husband liked it or didn't notice it: he had
heard indefinitely, years before, that she was married, and he took for
granted (as he had not heard that she had become a widow) the presence
of the happy man on whom she had conferred what she had refused to
_him_, the poor art-student at Munich. Colonel Capadose appeared to be
aware of nothing, and this circumstance, incongruously enough, rather
irritated Lyon than gratified him. Suddenly the lady turned her head,
showing her full face to our hero. He was so prepared with a greeting
that he instantly smiled, as a shaken jug overflows; but she gave him no
response, turned away again and sank back in her chair. All that her
face said in that instant was, 'You see I'm as handsome as ever.' To
which he mentally subjoined, 'Yes, and as much good it does me!' He
asked the young man beside him if he knew who that beautiful being
was--the fifth person beyond him. The young man leaned forward,
considered and then said, 'I think she's Mrs. Capadose.'

'Do you mean his wife--that fellow's?' And Lyon indicated the subject
of the information given him by his other neighbour.

'Oh, is _he_ Mr. Capadose?' said the young man, who appeared very vague.
He admitted his vagueness and explained it by saying that there were so
many people and he had come only the day before. What was definite to
Lyon was that Mrs. Capadose was in love with her husband; so that he
wished more