was a wonder she did not use the adjective "sweet"; for her tone
clearly implied that she admired them.

"I hear you are desperately and astoundingly clever," she continued,
like the brook flowing on for ever. "They tell me your pamphlet on
vivisection was quite masterly. How proud you must be, Mrs. Purling,
to hear such civil things said of his books!"

"Do you take sugar?" Harold asked, as he put a cup of tea into a hand
exquisitely gloved.

She looked up at him sharply, but failed to detect any satire behind
his words.

Harold thought that there was too much sugar and butter about her
altogether. Even thus early he felt antipathetic; yet, when they were
seated at dinner, and had an opportunity of observing her at leisure,
he could not deny that she was handsome, in a striking, queenly sort
of way; but he thought her complexion was too pale, and, at times,
when off her guard, a worn-out, harassed look came over her face, and
a tinge of melancholy clouded her dark eyes. But it was not easy to
find her off her guard. The unceasing strife of several seasons had
taught her to keep all the world at sword-point; she was armed
_cap-a-pie_, and ready always to fight with a clever woman's keenest
weapons--her eyes and tongue. Upon Harold she used both with
consummate skill; it was clear that she wished to please him,
addressing herself principally to him, asking his opinion on
scientific questions, coached up on purpose, and listening attentively
when he replied.

"How wise you have been to keep away from town these years! One gets
so sick of the perpetual round."

"I should have thought it truly delightful," said Mrs. Purling, who,
of course, took the unknown for the magnificent.

"Any honest labour would be preferable."

"Turn lady-help; that's my mother's common advice."

"Harold, how dare you suggest such a thing to Miss Fanshawe? Do you
know she is a peer's daughter?"

"I thought you said housework would do for the daughters of kings; and
you have proposed it to our cousin, Dolly Dri--"

"Were you at Ryde this year, Phillipa?" asked Mrs. Purling, promptly.

"No--at Cowes. We were yachting. Dreary business, don't you think, Mr.
Purling?"

"I rather like it."

"Yes, if you have a pleasant party and an object. But mere
cruising"--Miss Fanshawe was quick at shifting her ground.

"And you are going to Scotland?"

"Probably; and then for a round of visits. Dear, dear, how I loathe
it all! I had far rather