about the cut of his clothes and the stiffness of his shoulders, came down the long room with a buoyant step, Fenella's eyes gleamed as she held out her hand in greeting, which the newcomer pressed with that mingled homage and effusion betraying a stranger to English customs.
Onslow's dark face grew suddenly livid with passion. He made a movement as if about to rise, but was restrained by an imploring touch on his arm, and a murmured entreaty from his companion to be calm.
"You see! I obeyed your message on the instant," said the newcomer to Fenella, in an undertone, audible in the fell silence around. "Last week you said don't come—it is stupeed. Now you say, come!"
"Ah, but we have had some new visitors since then, and it is much more amusing."
After which really impudent remark, Fenella leant back, and with a look of infantile innocence on her piquante face, indicated Jacynth.
"I want to make you two acquainted. I like my friends to like each other. Mr, Jacynth—Count de Mürger."
The two men's eyes met. Clitheroe's gaze gravely observant, De Mürger momentarily taken aback, then bowing with gay readiness, as who should say, "A rival? Come on! measure swords."
Next he looked across and started.
