himself, and who had seen in him Heaven knew what! He never could look
at her without that look first; and only now, after some years of
marriage, was he beginning sometimes to do so without this thought
next. But he had not the gift of expression, even in the perpetual
matter of his devotion; and perhaps its perpetuity owed something to
that very want; at least there was none of the verbal evaporation which
comes of too much lovers' talk.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Mrs. Venables!"

Woodgate groaned. Was he obliged to appear? His jaw fell, and his wife's
eyes sparkled.

"Dear, I wouldn't even have let you know she was here--you shouldn't
have been interrupted for a single instant--if Mrs. Venables wasn't
clamoring to see you. And really I begin to clamor too; for she is full
of some mysterious news, which she won't tell me till you are there to
hear it also. Be an angel, for five minutes!"

Woodgate wiped his pen in his deliberate way.

"Probably one of the girls is engaged," said he; "if so I hope it's
Sybil."

"No, Sybil is here too; she doesn't look a bit engaged, but rather
bored, as though she had heard the story several times already, whatever
it may be. They have certainly paid several calls. Now you look quite
nice, so in you come."