Rayel's wonderful skill with the brush had evidently been
the subject of some discussion among Mr. Paddington's
guests. It was referred to frequently, and somewhat to the
embarrassment of my cousin, in the exchange of greetings
that followed our introduction.

Greatly to the relief of my fears Rayel seemed quite at
ease. He acknowledged the compliments paid him with gravity
and self-possession, but with few words. All eyes were
raised to his face, as he stood head and shoulders above a
group of ladies and gentlemen who had gathered about him.
Never had his presence seemed so magnetic and impressive
since the first time I saw him in his father's house. Now,
as then, a new inspiration was stirring his blood and
charging every nerve with the wonderful magnetism of
perfected manhood.

The last person presented to us was a young lady of unusual
beauty, whom I noticed for some moments standing across the
room in earnest conversation with our host. Presently he
made his way toward us with the lady on his arm.

"My daughter, Mr. Lane, whom I shall ask you to escort to
dinner," said he, addressing Rayel. After I had been
introduced to the young lady she took Rayel's arm, and the
company proceeded to the dining-hall. My seat at the table
was almost directly opposite Rayel. His grave and dignified
demeanor was made doubly conspicuous by the coquettish airs
and ready tongue of the young lady who sat beside him. Under