her cousin; her sex was far less developed. To the average man,
Olga's proximity would have been troubling, whereas Irene's would
simply have given delight.

During the excitement of the arrival, and through the cheerful meal
which followed, Eustace Derwent maintained a certain reserve, was
always rather in the background. This implied no defect of decent
sentiment; the young man--he was four-and-twenty--could not
regard his aunt and cousin with any fond emotion, but he did not
dislike them, and was willing to credit them with all the excellent
qualities perceived by Irene, wondering merely how his father's
sister, a member of the Derwent family, could have married such a
"doubtful customer" as Lee Hannaford. Eustace never became
demonstrative; he had in perfection the repose of a self-conscious,
delicately bred, and highly trained Englishman. In a day of
democratisation, he supported the ancient fame of the University
which fostered gentlemen. Balliol was his College. His respect for
that name, and his reverence for the great master who ruled there,
were not inconsistent with a private feeling that, whatever he might
owe to Balliol, Balliol in turn lay under a certain obligation to
him. His academic record had no brilliancy; he aimed at nothing of
the kind, knowing his limltations--or rather his distinctions; but
he was quietly conscious that no graduate of his year better
understood the niceties of decorum, more creditably represented the
tone of that famous school of manners.

Eustace Derwent was in fact a thoroughly clear-minded and
well-meaning young man; sensitive as to his honour; ambitious of
such social advancement as would illustrate his name; unaffectedly
attached to those of his own blood, and anxious to fulfil with