A little farther on he stumbled upon Forbes and the Stuarts, Mrs.Stuart as sparkling and fresh as ever, a suggestive contrast in her American crispness and prettiness to the high-bred distinction of Madame de Chateauvieux, who was standing near her.
'Well, my dear fellow,' said Forbes, catching hold of him, 'how is that critical demon of yours?
Is he scotched yet ?' 'He is almost at his last gasp,' said Kendal, with a ghostly smile, and a reckless impulse to talk which seemed to him his salvation.

'He was never as vicious a creature as you thought him, and Miss Bretherton has had no difficulty in slaying him.

But that hall was a masterpiece, Forbes! How have your pictures got on with all this ?' 'I haven't touched a brush since I came back from Switzerland, except to make sketches for this thing.

Oh, it's been a terrible business! Mr.
Worrall's hair has turned gray over the expenses of it; however, she and I would have our way, and it's all right--the play will run for twelve months, if she chooses, easily.' Near by were the Worralls, looking a little sulky, as Kendal fancied, in the midst of this great inrush of the London world, which was sweeping their niece from them into a position of superiority and independence they were not at all prepared to see her take up; Nothing, indeed, could be prettier than her manner to them whenever she came across them, but it was evident that she was no longer an automaton to be moved at their will and pleasure, but a woman and an artist, mistress of herself and of her fate.

Kendal fell into conversation on the subject with Mrs.Stuart, who was as communicative and amusing as usual, and who chattered away to him till he suddenly saw Miss Bretherton signalling to him with her arm in that of his sister.
'Do you know, Mr.Kendal,' she said as he went up to her, 'you must really take Madame de Chateauvieux away out of this noise and crowd?
It is all very well for her to preach to me.