fascination of this amusement she is first ignorant, and then aware, of
the presence of Mr. Willis Campbell, who on the landing space between
the drawing-room and the library stands, hat in hand, in the pleased
contemplation of Mrs. Somers's manoeuvres and contortions as the mirror
reports them to him. Mrs. Somers does not permit herself the slightest
start on seeing him in the glass, but turns deliberately away, having
taken time to prepare the air of gratification and surprise with which
she greets him at half the length of the drawing-room.

Mrs. Somers, giving her hand: "Why, Mr. Campbell! How very nice of you!
How long have you been prowling about there on the landing? So stupid of
them not to have turned up the gas!"

Campbell: "I wasn't much incommoded. That sort of pitch-darkness is
rather becoming to my style of beauty, I find. The only objection was
that I couldn't see you."

Mrs. Somers: "Do you often make those pretty speeches?"

Campbell: "When I can found them on fact."

Mrs. Somers: "What can I say back? Oh! That I'm sorry I couldn't have
met you when you were looking your best."

Campbell: "Um! Do you think you could have borne it? We might go out
there."

Mrs. Somers: "On second thoughts, no. I shall ring to have them turn up
the gas."

Campbell: "No; let me." He prevents her ringing, and going out into the
space between the library and drawing-room, stands with his hand on the
key of the gas-burner. "Now how do I look?"

Mrs. Somers: "Beautiful."

Campbell, turning up the gas: "And now?"

Mrs. Somers: "Not _half_ so well. Decidedly pitch-darkness is becoming
to you. Better turn it down again."

Campbell, rejoining her in the drawing-room: "No; it isn't so becoming
to you; and I'm not envious, whatever I am."

Mrs. Somers: "You are generosity itself."

Campbell: "If you come to phrases, I prefer magnanimity."

Mrs. Somers: "Well, _say_ magnanimity. Won't you sit down--while you
have the opportunity?" She sinks upon the sofa, and indicates with her
fan an easy-chair at one end of it.

Campbell, dropping into it: "Are there going to be so many?"

Mrs. Somers: "You never can tell about five o'clock tea. There mayn't be
more than half a dozen; there may be thirty or forty. But I wished to
affect your imagination."

Campbell: "You had better have tried it in some other kind of weather.
It's snowing like--"

Mrs. Somers, running to the window, and peeping out through the side of
the c