some were not; but Duncan, who appeared really to think the mere
accident of superior birth in itself a guarantee of personal merit, as
Paul very truly put it, grovelled all round, until I was sick with
shame. Paul, however, was at his best and wittiest and brightest, and
kept everybody in tolerably good humour.

When the carriage came to take the bride and bridegroom away, I
remembered some trifle of Janet's that had been left in the
conservatory; and, as I was in the hall at the time, ran hastily outside
and round by the gravel to the door opening from the lawn, which was my
shortest way to the conservatory from there.

Suddenly I stood quite still. Paul was looking out of the library
window, and Janet, ready for departure, came falteringly in and stood
behind him. He did not look towards her. "Paul!" she whispered
entreatingly; and although so low there was the utmost anguish in the
tone: "Paul." As though not knowing what she did, she raised her arm,
standing behind him there, as if to shake hands. Abruptly he wheeled
round, with a face down which the great tears coursed, but awful in its
pallor and sternness; and, taking no notice of her outstretched hand,
pointed to the door. Weeping bitterly, she swiftly turned and went.

I cannot describe the shock this terrible scene gave me. It did not take
half-a-dozen short moments to enact, but it represented, unmistakably,
the blasting of two lives--the lives of those dearest in all the world
to me.

I do not know, I never knew, whether Paul saw me. I think I must have
become momentarily unconscious, and when I came to myself he was gone.