done so too. I would not meet his eye again, however.

"How long shall you remain, Uxbridge?"

"I don't know. You are not interested in the lawsuit, Miss
Huell?" he said, putting on his hat.

"Not in the least; nothing of mine is involved."

"We'll gain it for your portion yet, Miss Margaret," said Mr. Van
Horn, nodding to Mr. Uxbridge, and bidding William drive on. He
returned the next day, and we settled into the routine of hotel
life. A few mornings after, she sent me to a matinee, which was
given by some of the Opera people, who were in Newport
strengthening the larynx with applications of brine. When the
concert was half over, and the audience were making the usual hum
and stir, I saw Mr. Uxbridge against a pillar, with his hands
incased in pearl-colored gloves, and holding a shiny hat. He turned
half away when he caught my eye, and then darted toward me.

"You have not been much more interested in the music than you are
in the lawsuit," he said, seating himself beside me.

"The *tutoyer* of the Italian voice is agreeable, however."

"It makes one dreamy."

"A child."

"Yes, a child; not a man nor a woman."