"Men are so senseless!" Caroline exclaimed viciously. She rose. "It's
been a help only to talk to you, Howat. I knew you'd understand. Supper
will be along soon. Make yourself into a charmer for Mrs. Winscombe. I'm
certain she thinks the men out here are frightful hobs." The light had
dimmed rapidly in the room, and he moved over to the chest of drawers,
where he lit the candles, settling over them their tall, carved glass
cylinders.




III


He dressed slowly, all that Caroline had said, and he thought, tangling
and disentangling deliberately in his mind. Mrs. Winscombe ... thinking
there were no presentable men in the Provinces. His hand strayed in the
direction of a quince-coloured satin coat; but he chose instead a
commonplace, dun affair with pewter buttons, and carelessly settled his
shoulders in an unremarkable waistcoat. Then, although he could hear a
concerted stir of voices below that announced impending supper, he
slipped into a chair for half a pipe. He was indifferent, not diffident,
and there was no hesitation in the manner in which he finally approached
the company seated at supper. His place was, as usual, at his mother's
side; but opposite him where Myrtle usually sat was a rigid, high
shouldered man in mulberry and silver, jewelled buckles, and a full,
powdered wig. He had thin, dark cheeks, a heavy nose above a firm mouth
with a satirical droop, and small, unpleasantly penetrating eyes. An
expression of general malice was, however, corrected by a high and
serene brow.