now of the best, and it brought consequences felt by the young man as
important. He saw more in St. George's face, which he liked the better
for its not having told its whole story in the first three minutes. That
story came out as one read, in short instalments--it was excusable that
one's analogies should be somewhat professional--and the text was a style
considerably involved, a language not easy to translate at sight. There
were shades of meaning in it and a vague perspective of history which
receded as you advanced. Two facts Paul had particularly heeded. The
first of these was that he liked the measured mask much better at
inscrutable rest than in social agitation; its almost convulsive smile
above all displeased him (as much as any impression from that source
could), whereas the quiet face had a charm that grew in proportion as
stillness settled again. The change to the expression of gaiety excited,
he made out, very much the private protest of a person sitting gratefully
in the twilight when the lamp is brought in too soon. His second
reflexion was that, though generally averse to the flagrant use of
ingratiating arts by a man of age "making up" to a pretty girl, he was
not in this case too painfully affected: which seemed to prove either
that St. George had a light hand or the air of being younger than he was,
or else that Miss Fancourt's own manner somehow made everything right.

Overt walked with her into the gallery, and they strolled to the end of
it, looking at the pictures, the cabinets, the charming vista, which
harmonised with the prospect of the summer afternoon, resembling it by a
long brightness, with great divans and old chairs that figured hours of
rest. Such a place as that had the added merit of giving those who came
into it plenty to talk about. Miss Fancourt sat down with her new
acquaintance on a flowered sofa, the cushions of which, very numerous,
were tight ancient cubes of many sizes, and presently said: "I'm so glad
to have a chance to thank you."