things. Better leave him alone.'

'Oh no; he'll feel himself neglected.'

'Well, let him. A man ought to be made to understand that he can't
behave like that.'

'What did he do?'

'My dear, he spoiled the whole business after dinner--harangued the
table!--as good as told De Chailles he had no right to talk about
Irving or Shakespeare, being a foreigner. You never saw such an
exhibition!'

'Poor Mr. Fenwick. I must go and talk to him.'

'Eugenie, don't be a goose. Why should you take any trouble about
him?'

'He's wonderfully clever, papa. And clever people are always getting
into scrapes. Somebody must take him in hand.'

And, rising, she threw her father a whimsical backward look as she
departed. Lord Findon watched her with mingled smiles and chagrin.
How charmingly she was dressed to-night--his poor Eugenie! And how
beautifully she moved!--with what grace and sweetness! As he turned to
do his duty by an elderly countess near him, he stifled a sigh--that
was also an imprecation.

It had often been said of Eugenie de Pastourelles that she possessed
a social magic. She certainly displayed it on this occasion. Half an
hour later Lord Findon, who was traversing the drawing-rooms after
having taken the Ambassadress to her carriage, found a regenerate and
humanised Fenwick sitting beside his daughter; the centre, indeed, of
a circle no less friendly to untutored talent than the circle of the
dinner-table had been hostile. Lord Findon stopped to listen. Really
the young man was now talking decently!--about matters he understood;
Burne-Jones, Rossetti--some French pictures in Bond Street--and so
forth. The ruffled host was half appeased, half wroth. For if he
_could_ make this agreeable impression, why such a superfluity
of naughtiness downstairs? And the fellow had really some general
cultivation; nothing like Welby, of course--where would you find
another Arthur Welby?--but enough to lift him above the mere
journeyman. After all, one must be indulgent to these novices--with
no traditions behind them--and no--well, to put it plainly--no
grandfathers! And so, with reflexions of this kind, the annoyance of a
good-natured man subsided.

It was all Eugenie's doing, of course. She and Welby between them
had caught the bear, tamed him, and set him to show whatever parlour
tricks he possessed. Just like her! He hoped the young man understood
her condescension--and that to see her and talk with her was a
privilege. I