with his trembling fingers, and tried in vain to pump up some
harmless remark appropriate to the occasion. But no remark came to
him. Mrs. Clifford darted a furtive glance at Elma, and Elma darted
back a furtive glance at Mrs. Clifford. Neither said a word, and each
let her eyes drop to the ground at once as they met the other's.
But each knew in her heart that something passing strange had
astonished Colonel Kelmscott; and each knew, too, that the other
had observed it.

Mother and daughter, indeed, needed no spoken words to tell these
things plainly to one another. The deep intuition that descended
to both was enough to put them in sympathy at once without the need
of articulate language.

"Yes, Mr. Guy Waring," Mrs. Clifford repeated at last, breaking
the awkward silence that supervened upon the group. "The brother
of Mr. Cyril Waring, who was so kind the other day to my daughter
in the tunnel."

The Colonel started imperceptibly to the naked eye again.

"Oh, indeed," he said, forcing himself with an effort to speak at
last. "I've read about it, of course; it was in all the papers....
And--eh--is your brother here, too, this afternoon, Mr. Waring?"