Teresa, watching them with interest, came a little nearer.

She could now examine Ovid's face with close and jealous scrutiny. Mrs.
Gallilee reminded her son that she was waiting for him. He had some
last words yet to say. The duenna drew back from the sofa, still
looking at Ovid: she muttered to herself, "Holy Teresa, my patroness,
show me that man's soul in his face!" At last, Ovid took his leave. "I
shall call and see how you are to-morrow," he said, "before I go." He
nodded kindly to Teresa. Instead of being satisfied with that act of
courtesy, she wanted something more. "May I shake hands?" she asked.
Mrs. Gallilee was a Liberal in politics; never had her principles been
tried, as they were tried when she heard those words. Teresa wrung
Ovid's hand with tremulous energy--still intent on reading his
character in his face. He asked her, smiling, what she saw to interest
her. "A good man, I hope," she answered, sternly. Carmina and Ovid were
amused. Teresa rebuked them, as if they had been children. "Laugh at
some fitter time," she said, "not now."

Descending the stairs, Mrs. Gallilee and Ovid met the footman. "Mr.
Mool is in the library, ma'am," the man said.

"Have you anything to do, Ovid, for the next half-hour?" his mother
asked.

"Do you wish me to see Mr. Mool? If it's law-business, I am afraid I
shall not be of much use."

"The lawyer is here by appointment, with a copy of your late uncle's
Will," Mrs. Gallilee answered. "You may have some interest in it. I
think you ought to hear it read."