readily, as though glad of the chance, and did not notice the crimson
that painted Dorothy's face.

The latter young lady was as much puzzled by their caller as was her
mother, without accounting for his oddities on any argument of dullness.
Indeed, she could see how he played with them: that there flowed an
undercurrent of irony in his replies. Moreover, while by his manner he
had pedestaled and prayed to her as to a goddess, when they were alone
and before her mother came, Dorothy now observed that Richard carried
himself in a manner easy and masterful, and as one who knows much in the
presence of ones who know little. This air of the ineffably invincible
made Dorothy forget the adoration which had aforetime glowed in his
eyes, and she longed to box his ears.

"Is Mr. Gwynn your relative?" asked the cool, though somewhat careless,
Mrs. Hanway-Harley.

"No, madam; no relative." There drifted about the corners of Richard's
mouth the shadow of a smile. "He is all English; I am all American."

"I'm sure I'm sorry," remarked the lady musingly. Then without saying
upon what her sorrow was hinged, she proceeded. "Mr. Gwynn, I hear--I
don't know him personally, but hope soon to have that pleasure--is a
gentleman of highest breeding. My brother assures me that he has most
delightful manners. I know I shall adore him. If there's anything I
wholly admire it is an old-school English gentleman--they have so much
refinement, so much elevation!"

"It might not become me," returned Richard, in what Mrs. Hanway-Harley
took to be a spirit of diffidence, "to laud the deportment of Mr. Gwynn.