_; she knew, in short, Hortense Moore,
and she wanted to jump up and run to her and kiss her--to give her one
embrace for her own sake and two for her brother's. She half rose,
indeed, with a smothered exclamation, and perhaps--for the impulse was
very strong--she would have run across the room and actually saluted
her; but a hand replaced her in her seat, and a voice behind her
whispered, "Wait till after tea, Lina, and then I'll bring her to you."

And when she _could_ look up she did, and there was Robert himself close
behind, smiling at her eagerness, looking better than she had ever seen
him look--looking, indeed, to her partial eyes, so very handsome that
she dared not trust herself to hazard a second glance; for his image
struck on her vision with painful brightness, and pictured itself on her
memory as vividly as if there daguerreotyped by a pencil of keen
lightning.

He moved on, and spoke to Miss Keeldar. Shirley, irritated by some
unwelcome attentions from Sam Wynne, and by the fact of that gentleman
being still seated on her gloves and handkerchief--and probably, also,
by Moore's want of punctuality--was by no means in good humour. She
first shrugged her shoulders at him, and then she said a bitter word or
two about his "insupportable tardiness." Moore neither apologized nor
retorted. He stood near her quietly, as if waiting to see whether she
would recover her temper; which she did in little more than three
minutes, indicating the change by offering him her hand. Moore took it
with a smile, half-corrective, half-grateful. The slightest possible
shake of the head delicately marked the former quality; it is probable a
gentle pressure indicated the latter.

"You may sit where you can now, Mr. Moore," said Shirley, also smiling.
"You see there is not an inch of room for you here; but I discern plenty
of space at Mrs. Boultby's table, between Miss Armitage and Miss
Birtwhistle. Go! John Sykes will be your _vis-a-vis_, and you will sit
with your back towards us."

Moore, however, preferred lingering about where he was. He now and then
took a turn down the long room, pausing in his walk to interchange
greetings with other gentlemen in his own placeless predicament; but
still he came back to the magnet, Shirley, bringing with him, each time
he returned, observations it was necessary to whisper in her ear.

Meantime poor Sam Wynne looked far from comfortable. His fair neighbour,
judging from her movements, appe