IX


'I am Miss Watson,' she said in her low musical voice, 'and this is my
friend, Mrs. Bentley.' Hubert bowed, and sought for words. He found none,
and the irritating silence was broken again by Miss Watson. 'Won't you sit
down?' she said.

'Thank you.' He pulled off his gloves. The pained, troubled look which he
had met in Miss Watson's face seemed a reproach, and he regretted not
having followed his own idea, and invited the young lady to meet him at Mr.
Grandly's office. He glanced nervously from one lady to the other.

'I hope you have had a pleasant journey, Mr. Price,' said Mrs. Bentley.
'The country is looking very beautiful just at present. Do you know this
part of the country?' Mrs. Bentley's words were very welcome, and Hubert
replied eagerly--

'No; I do not know the country at all well. I have been very little out of
London for some years, but I hope now to see more of the country. This is a
beautiful place.'

At that moment he met Mrs. Bentley's eyes, and, feeling that he was
touching on delicate ground, he stopped speaking. When he turned his head,
he met Miss Watson's great sad eyes, which seemed to absorb the entire
face, fixed upon him. They expressed such depth of pathetic appeal that he
trembled with apprehension, and the instinct in him was to beg for pardon.