‘Mother says so:  he is certainly good-looking,’ she answered simply; ’and then he is so kind.  I feel almost ashamed at troubling him so much with our business and commissions, but he never seems to mind any amount of trouble.  I have never met any one so unselfish.’

I turned away my head to hide a smile.  Lesbia was quite serious.  She was too much absorbed in the memory of Charlie to read the secret of Harcourt Manners’s unselfishness:  the kindly attentions of the young man, his solicitude and sympathy, had not yet awakened a suspicion of the truth.

One day Lesbia’s eyes would be opened, and she would be shocked and surprised to find the hold that Charlie’s friend had got over her heart.  Very likely she would dismiss him and lock herself up in her room and cry for hours; probably she would persist for some weeks in making herself and him exceedingly unhappy.  But it would be all no use; the tie of sympathy would be too strong; he would have made himself too necessary to her.  One day she would have to yield, and find her life’s happiness in thus yielding.  Charlie’s white lily was too fair to be left to wither alone, and I knew Harcourt Manners would be worthy to win the prize.

I could see it all before it happened, while Lesbia talked in her serious way of Mr. Manners’s unselfishness.  Presently, however, she changed the subject, and began questioning me eagerly about my work; and just then Jill joined us, and placed herself on the floor at my feet, with the firm intention, evidently, of listening to our remarks.

The conversation drifted round to Gladwyn presently.  I could see Lesbia was a little curious about these friends of mine that I had mentioned casually in my letters.

‘I can’t quite make out the relationship,’ she said, in a puzzled tone.  ’You are always talking about this Gladys.  Is she really so beautiful and fascinating?  And who is Miss Darrell?’

‘You had better ask me,’ interrupted Jill, quite rudely, ’for Ursula is so absurdly infatuated about the whole family; she thinks them all quite perfect, with the exception of the double-faced lady, Miss Darrell; but they are very ordinary,—­quite ordinary people, I assure you.’

’Now, Jill, we do not want any of your impertinence.  Lesbia would rather hear my description of my friends.’

’On the contrary, she would prefer the opinion of an unprejudiced person,’ persisted Jill, with a voluble eloquence that took away my breath.  ’Listen to me, Lesbia.  This Mr. Hamilton that Ursula is always talking about’—­how I longed to box Jill’s pretty little ears! she had lovely ears, pink and shell-like, hidden under her black locks—­’is an ugly, disagreeable-looking man.’

‘Oh!’ from Lesbia, in rather a disappointed tone.

’He is quite old,—­about five-and-thirty, they say,—­and he has a long smooth-shaven face like a Jesuit.  I don’t recollect seeing a Jesuit, though; but he is very like one all the same.  He has dark eyes that stare somehow and seem to put you down, and he has a way of laughing at you civilly that makes you wild; and Ursula believes in him, and is quite meek in his presence, just because he is a doctor and orders her about.’