‘Now I suppose you’re speaking of me,’ said Isabel with humility; and she turned away again, for she saw Miss Molyneux enter the gallery, accompanied by Henrietta and by Ralph.

Lord Warburton’s sister addressed him with a certain timidity and reminded him she ought to return home in time for tea, as she was expecting company to partake of it. He made no answer—apparently not having heard her; he was preoccupied, and with good reason. Miss Molyneux—as if he had been Royalty—stood like a lady-in-waiting.

‘Well, I never, Miss Molyneux!’ said Henrietta Stackpole. ‘If I wanted to go he’d have to go. If I wanted my brother to do a thing he’d have to do it.’

‘Oh, Warburton does everything one wants,’ Miss Molyneux answered with a quick, shy laugh. ‘How very many pictures you have!’ she went on, turning to Ralph.

‘They look a good many, because they’re all put together,’ said Ralph. ‘But it’s really a bad way.’

‘Oh, I think it’s so nice. I wish we had a gallery at Lockleigh. I’m so very fond of pictures,’ Miss Molyneux went on, persistently, to Ralph, as if she were afraid Miss Stackpole would address her again. Henrietta appeared at once to fascinate and to frighten her.

‘Ah yes, pictures are very convenient,’ said Ralph, who appeared to know better what style of reflexion was acceptable to her.

‘They’re so very pleasant when it rains,’ the young lady continued. ‘It has rained of late so very often.’

‘I’m sorry you’re going away, Lord Warburton,’ said Henrietta. ‘I wanted to get a great deal more out of you.’

‘I’m not going away,’ Lord Warburton answered.

‘Your sister says you must. In America the gentlemen obey the ladies.’

‘I’m afraid we have some people to tea,’ said Miss Molyneux, looking at her brother.

‘Very good, my dear. We’ll go.’

‘I hoped you would resist!’ Henrietta exclaimed. ‘I wanted to see what Miss Molyneux would do.’

‘I never do anything,’ said this young lady.

‘I suppose in your position it’s sufficient for you to exist!’ Miss Stackpole returned. ‘I should like very much to see you at home.’

‘You must come to Lockleigh again,’ said Miss Molyneux very sweetly, to Isabel, ignoring this remark of Isabel’s friend.

Isabel looked into her quiet eyes a moment, and for that moment seemed to see in their grey depths the reflexion of everything she had rejected in rejecting Lord Warburton—the peace, the kindness, the honour, the possessions, a deep security and a great exclusion. She kissed Miss Molyneux and then she said: ‘I’m afraid I can never come again.’

‘Never again?’

‘I’m afraid I’m going away.’

‘Oh, I’m so very sorry,’ said Miss Molyneux. ‘I think that’s so very wrong of you.’