about me, to see me sit as open-mouthed as I now figure myself. Not
so the two ladies, who not only were very nearly dumb from beginning
to end of the meal, but who hadn't even the air of being struck with
such an exhibition of fancy and taste. Mrs. Ambient, detached, and
inscrutable, met neither my eye nor her husband's; she attended to
her dinner, watched her servants, arranged the puckers in her dress,
exchanged at wide intervals a remark with her sister-in-law and,
while she slowly rubbed her lean white hands between the courses,
looked out of the window at the first signs of evening--the long June
day allowing us to dine without candles. Miss Ambient appeared to
give little direct heed to anything said by her brother; but on the
other hand she was much engaged in watching its effect upon me. Her
"die-away" pupils continued to attach themselves to my countenance,
and it was only her air of belonging to another century that kept
them from being importunate. She seemed to look at me across the
ages, and the interval of time diminished for me the inconvenience.
It was as if she knew in a general way that he must be talking very
well, but she herself was so at home among such allusions that she
had no need to pick them up and was at liberty to see what would
become of the exposure of a candid young American to a high aesthetic
temperature.

The temperature was aesthetic certainly, but it was less so than I
could have desired, for I failed of any great success in making our
friend abound about himself. I tried to put him on the ground of his
own genius, but he slipped through my fingers every time and shifted
the saddle to one or other of his contemporaries. He talked about
Balzac and Browning, about what was being done in foreign countries,
about his recent tour in the East and the extraordinary forms of life
to be observed in that part of the world. I felt he had reasons for