They talked, I say, but with a
certain difficulty, for Effie asked him no questions, and this made him
feel a little stiff about thrusting information upon her. Then she was
so pretty, so exquisite, that this by itself disconcerted him. It seemed
to him almost that she had falsified a prophecy, instead of bringing one
to pass. He had foretold that she would be like this; the only
difference was that she was so much more like it. She made no inquiries
about his arrival, his people in America, his plans; and they exchanged
vague remarks about the pictures, quite as if they had met for the first
time.

When Cousin Maria came in Effie was standing in front of the fire
fastening a bracelet, and he was at a distance gazing in silence at a
portrait of his hostess by Bastien-Lepage. One of his apprehensions had
been that Cousin Maria would allude ironically to the difference there
had been between his threat (because it had been really almost a
threat) of following them speedily to Paris and what had in fact
occurred; but he saw in a moment how superficial this calculation had
been. Besides, when had Cousin Maria ever been ironical? She treated him
as if she had seen him last week (which did not preclude kindness), and
only expressed her regret at having missed his visit the day before, in
consequence of which she had immediately written to him to come and
dine. He might have come from round the corner, instead of from New York
and across the wintry ocean. This was a part of her 'cosiness,' her
friendly, motherly optimism, of which, even of old, the habit had been
never to recognise nor allude to disagreeable things; so that to-day, in
the midst of so much that was not disagreeable, the custom would of
course be immensely confirmed.

Raymond was perfectly aware that it was not a pleasure, even for her,
that, for several years past, things should have gone so ill in New York
with his family and himself. His father's embarrassments, of which
Marian's silly husband had been the cause and which had terminated in
general ruin and humiliation, to say nothing of the old man's 'stroke'
and the necessity, arising from it, for a renunciation on his own part
of all present thoughts of leaving home again and even for a partial
relinquishment of present work, the old man requiring so much of his
personal attention--all this constituted an episode which could not fail
to look sordid and dreary in the light of Mrs. Temperly's high success.