ground in Mrs. Branston's favour only by the accident of his own absence
from the stage. The Pallinsons had not been on visiting terms with Adela
during the life of the East Indian merchant, who had not shown himself
favourably disposed to his wife's relations; and by this means Mr.
Saltram had enjoyed advantages which Theobald Pallinson told himself
could not have been his, had he, Theobald, been at hand to engage his
cousin's attention by those superior qualities of mind and person which
must needs have utterly outshone the other. All that Mr. Pallinson wanted
was opportunity; and that being now afforded him, he looked upon the
happy issue of events as a certainty, and already contemplated the house
in Cavendish-square, the Indian jars and cabinets, the ivory chessmen and
filigree-silver rosewater-bottles, the inlaid desks and Japanese screens,
the ponderous plate and rare old wines, with a sense of prospective
proprietorship.

It seemed as if John Saltram had favoured this gentleman's views by his
prolonged absence from the scene, holding himself completely aloof from
Adela Branston at a time when, had he been inclined to press his suit, he
might have followed her up closely. Mrs. Branston had been not a little
wounded by this apparent neglect on the part of one whom she loved better
than anything else in the world; but she was inclined to believe any
thing rather than that John Saltram did not care for her; and she had
contrived to console herself with the idea that his avoidance of her had
been prompted by a delicate consideration for her reputation, and a
respect for the early period of her mourning. To-night, in his society,
she had an air of happiness which became her wonderfully; and Gilbert
Fenton fancied that a man must needs be hard and cold whose heart could
not be won by so bright and gracious a creature.

She spoke more than once, in a half-playful way, of Mr. Saltram's absence