Isabel, who was nervous and had no relish for the prospect of again arguing the question he had so prematurely opened, could not help admiring his good-humoured self-possession, which quite disguised the symptoms of that preoccupation with her presence it was natural she should suppose him to feel.

He neither looked at her nor spoke to her, and the only sign of his emotion was that he avoided meeting her eyes.

He had plenty of talk for the others, however, and he appeared to eat his luncheon with discrimination and appetite.

Miss Molyneux, who had a smooth, nun-like forehead and wore a large silver cross suspended from her neck, was evidently preoccupied with Henrietta Stackpole, upon whom her eyes constantly rested in a manner suggesting a conflict between deep alienation and yearning wonder.

Of the two ladies from Lockleigh she was the one Isabel had liked best; there was such a world of hereditary quiet in her.