he always felt a sort of shy pleasure in following
Miss Keeldar's lead respecting the discussion of her cousin's character.
Left to herself, she would never have touched on the subject; but when
invited, the temptation of talking about him of whom she was ever
thinking was irresistible. "But," she added, "I really don't know what
it is, for I never watched Robert in my life but my scrutiny was
presently baffled by finding he was watching me."

"There it is!" exclaimed Shirley. "You can't fix your eyes on him but
his presently flash on you. He is never off his guard. He won't give you
an advantage. Even when he does not look at you, his thoughts seem to be
busy amongst your own thoughts, tracing your words and actions to their
source, contemplating your motives at his ease. Oh! I know that sort of
character, or something in the same style. It is one that piques me
singularly. How does it affect you?"

This question was a specimen of one of Shirley's sharp, sudden turns.
Caroline used to be fluttered by them at first, but she had now got into
the way of parrying these home-thrusts like a little Quakeress.

"Pique you? In what way does it pique you?" she said.

"Here he comes!" suddenly exclaimed Shirley, breaking off, starting up
and running to the window. "Here comes a diversion. I never told you of
a superb conquest I have made lately--made at those parties to which I
can never persuade you to accompany me; and the thing has been done
without effort or intention on my part--that I aver. There is the
bell--and, by all that's delicious! there are two of them. Do they never
hunt, then, except in couples? You may have one, Lina, and you may take
your choice. I hope I am generous enough. Listen to Tartar!"

The black-muzzled, tawny dog, a glimpse of which was seen in the chapter
which first introduced its mistress to the reader, here gave tongue in
the hall, amidst whose hollow space the deep bark resounded formidably.
A growl more terrible than the bark, menacing as muttered thunder,
succeeded.

"Listen!" again cried Shirley, laughing. "You would think that the
prelude to a bloody onslaught. They will be frightened. They don't know
old Tartar as I do. They are not aware his uproars are all sound and
fury, signifying nothing!"

Some bustle was heard. "Down, sir, down!" exclaimed a high-toned,
imperious voice, and then came a crack of a cane or whip. Immediately
there was a yell--a scutter--a run--a positive tumult.