features and square chin gave the whole face a curious expression of
resoluteness and power. The eyes were heavily-lidded and greyish-green
in hue, with enormously large dark pupils that had a strange habit of
expanding and contracting without apparent reason.

Gazing at her, Philip was at a loss to know whether this woman so
bizarrely beautiful fascinated or repelled him; indeed, neither then
nor at any future time did he succeed in deciding the question. Whilst
he was still contemplating, and wondering how Bellamy of all people in
the world had managed to marry such a woman, and what previous
acquaintance George had had with her, he saw the lady whisper
something to his cousin, who at once turned and introduced him.

"Philip," he said, "let me introduce you to the most charming lady of
my acquaintance, Mrs. Bellamy."

Philip bowed and expressed himself delighted, whilst the lady curtsied
with a mixture of grace and dignity that became her infinitely well.

"Your cousin has often spoken to me of you, Mr. Caresfoot, but he
never told me----" here she hesitated, and broke off.

"What did he never tell you, Mrs. Bellamy? Nothing to my disadvantage,
I hope."

"On the contrary, if you wish to know," she said, in that tone of
flattering frankness which is sometimes so charming in a woman's
mouth, "he never told me that you were young and handsome. I fancied
you forty at least."