red, or bring out the sweat-drops on his brow, as
it does with some men; but it added a peculiar brightness to his blue
eyes. It was by the light of his eyes that men knew when Burgo had
been drinking.

At last, while he was still in the supper room, he heard Lady
Glencora's name announced. He had already seen Mr Palliser come in
and make his way up-stairs some quarter of an hour before; but as
to that he was indifferent. He had known that the husband was to be
there. When the long-expected name reached his ears, his heart seemed
to jump within him. What, on the spur of the moment, should he do?
As he had resolved that he would be doing,--that something should be
done, let it be what it might,--he hurried to the dining-room door,
and was just in time to see and be seen as Lady Glencora was passing
up the stairs. She was just above him as he got himself out into the
hall, so that he could not absolutely greet her with his hand; but
he looked up at her, and caught her eye. He looked up, and moved his
hand to her in token of salutation. She looked down at him, and the
expression of her face altered visibly as her glance met his. She
barely bowed to him,--with her eyes rather than with her head, but
he flattered himself that there was, at any rate, no anger in her
countenance. How beautiful he was as he gazed up at her, leaning
against the wall as he stood, and watching her as she made her slow
way up the stairs! She felt that his eyes were on her, and where the
stairs turned she could not restrain herself from one other glance.
As her eyes fell on his again, his mouth opened, and she fancied that
she could hear the faint sigh that he uttered. It was a glorious
mouth, such as the old sculptors gave to their marble gods! And
Burgo, if it was so that he had not heart enough to love truly, could
look as though he loved. It was not in him deceit,--or what men call
acting. The expression came to him naturally, though it expressed so
much more than there was within; as strong words come to some men who
have no knowledge that they are speaking strongly. At this moment
Burgo Fitzgerald looked as though it were possible that he might die
of love.

Lady Glencora was met at the top of the stairs by Lady Monk, who came
out to her, almost into the gallery, with her sweetest smile,--so
that the newly-arrived guest, of course, entered into the small
room. There sat the Duchess of St Bungay on her stool in the corner,
and there, next t