awing-room, Alban was just
offering his arm to Emily. "Papa gives you to me, Mr. Morris," Cecilia
explained pleasantly. Alban hesitated, apparently not understanding the
allusion. Mirabel interfered with his best grace: "Mr. Wyvil offers
you the honor of taking his daughter to the dining-room." Alban's face
darkened ominously, as the elegant little clergyman gave his arm to
Emily, and followed Mr. Wyvil and Francine out of the room. Cecilia
looked at her silent and surly companion, and almost envied her lazy
sister, dining--under cover of a convenient headache--in her own room.

Having already made up his mind that Alban Morris required careful
handling, Mirabel waited a little before he led the conversation as
usual. Between the soup and the fish, he made an interesting confession,
addressed to Emily in the strictest confidence.

"I have taken a fancy to your friend Mr. Morris," he said. "First
impressions, in my case, decide everything; I like people or dislike
them on impulse. That man appeals to my sympathies. Is he a good
talker?"

"I should say Yes," Emily answered prettily, "if _you_ were not
present."

Mirabel was not to be beaten, even by a woman, in the art of paying
compliments. He looked admiringly at Alban (sitting opposite to him),
and said: "Let us listen."

This flattering suggestion not only pleased Emily--it artfully served
Mirabel's purpose. That is to say, it secured him an opportunity for
observation of what was going on at the other side of the table.

Alban's instincts as a gentleman had led him to control his irritation
and to regret that he had suffered it to appear. Anxious to please, he
presented himself at his best. Gentle Cecilia forgave and forgot the
angry look which had startled her. Mr. Wyvil was delighted with the son
of his old friend. Emily felt secretly proud of the good opinions which
her admirer was gathering; and Francine saw with pleasure that he was
asserting his claim to Emily's preference, in the way of all others
which would be most likely to discourage his rival. These various
impressions--produced while Alban's enemy was ominously silent--began
to suffer an imperceptible change, from the moment when Mirabel decided
that his time had come to take the lead. A remark made by Alban offered
him the chance for which he had been on the watch. He agreed with the
remark; he enlarged on the remark; he was brilliant and familiar, and
instructive and amusing--and still it was al