asked Mrs. Pasmer.
“Well, not when I'm expecting company.”
“He couldn't refuse even then, if they pressed the matter,” said Mrs. Saintsbury, lecturing upon him to her friend.
“I'm afraid you're too amiable altogether, Mr. Mavering. I'm sure you let people impose upon you,” said the other lady. “You have been letting us impose upon you.”
“Ah! now that proves you're all wrong, Mrs. Pasmer.”
“It proves that you know how to say things very prettily.”
“Oh, thank you. I know when I'm having a good time, and I do my best to enjoy it.” He ended with the nervous laugh which seemed habitual with him.
“He, does laugh a good deal;” thought Mrs. Pasmer, surveying him with smiling steadiness. “I suppose it tires Alice. Some of his teeth are filled at the sides. That vein in his forehead—they say that means genius.” She said to him: “I hope you know when others are having a good time too, Mr. Mavering? You ought to have that reward.”
They both looked at Alice. “Oh, I should be so happy to think you hadn't been bored with it all, Mrs. Pasmer,” he returned;—with-deep feeling.
Alice was looking at one of the sketches which were pretty plentifully pinned about the wall, and apparently seeing it and apparently listening to what Professor Saintsbury was saying; but her mother believed from a tremor of the ribbons on her hat that she was conscious of nothing but young Mavering's gaze and the sound of his voice.
“We've been delighted, simply enchanted,” said Mrs. Pasmer. And she thought; “Now if Alice were to turn round just as she stands, he could see all the best points of her face. I wonder what she really thinks of him? What is it you have there; Alice?” she asked aloud.
The girl turned her face over her shoulder so exactly in the way her mother wished that Mrs. Pasmer could scarcely repress a cry of joy. “A sketch of Mr. Mavering's.”
“Oh, how very interesting!” said Mrs. Pasmer. “Do you sketch, Mr. Mavering? But of course.” She pressed
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