years, but seemed merely clever, amiable, very unaffected, and rather
ill. She had long, veiled-looking brown eyes, turned up at the corners,
which gave to her glance an amusing slyness. It was a very misleading
physiognomical effect, for she was really unusually frank. She wore a
dull grey dress that was neither artistic, becoming, nor smart. In fact,
she was too charming to be dowdy, and too careless to be chic; she might
have been a great celebrity.

The young man who made the suggestion above recorded was fair and
clean-shaven, tall and well-made, with clear-cut feature; in fact, he
was very good-looking--good-looking as almost only an Englishman can be.
Under a reserved, dandified manner, he tried unsuccessfully to conceal
the fact that he was too intelligent for his type. He did not, however,
quite attain his standard of entire expressionlessness; and his bright,
light-blue eyes and fully-curved lips showed the generous and emotional
nature of their owner. At this moment he seemed very much out of temper.

They were sitting in a dismal little drawing-room in one of the smallest
houses in a dreary street in Belgravia. The room was crowded with
dateless, unmeaning furniture, and disfigured by muddled, mistaken
decoration. Its designer, probably, had meant well, but had been very
far from carrying out his meaning. There were too many things in the
room, and most of them were wrong. It would be unjust, however, to
suppose Mrs Raymond did not know this. Want of means, and indifference,
or perhaps perverseness, had caused her to leave the house unchanged
since his death as a sort of monument to poor Colonel Raymond's
erring taste.

'You might just as well marry me as not,' said Cecil, in his level
voice, but with pleading eyes. He made the gesture of trying to take her