‘I am not fond of affording amusement,’ he said. He limped slightly as he walked, which was the reason he had allowed Cara to go before him. ‘Yes; I like youth. Generally it makes few phrases, and it knows what it means.’ ‘Which is just what I dislike.’ ‘Yes; elderly sirens naturally do. But next time Beresford comes to dine, and you ask me, if you will give me a little longer notice I will come, for I want to meet him.’ ‘Let it be on Saturday, then,’ she said; ‘that is, if he has no engagement. I will let you know.’ ‘As if she did not know what engagements he had!’ Mr. Somerville said to himself: ‘as if he ever dreamt of going anywhere that would interfere with his visits here!’ He struck his stick sharply against the stairs as he went down. He had no sense of hostility to Mrs. Meredith, but rather that kind of uneasy liking akin to repugnance, which made him wish to annoy her. He felt sure she was made angry by the sound of his stick on the stairs. Her household went upon velvet, and made no noise; for though she was not fanciful she had nerves, and was made to start and jump by any sudden noise. Cara heard him go with his stick along the Square, as nurse, who was her maid, closed the windows of her room. The sound got less distinct after this, but still she could hear it gradually disappearing. What a disagreeable old man he was, though he said he did not think himself old; at seven-and-fifty! Cara thought seven-and-twenty oldish, and seven-and-thirty the age of a grandfather; and yet he did not think himself old! So strange are the delusions which impartial people have to encounter in this world. Nurse interrupted her thoughts by a question about her dress. One of her very prettiest evening dresses lay opened out upon her bed. ‘That is too fine,’ said Cara; ‘we are to be quite alone.’ ‘You haven’t seen Mr. Oswald, have you, Miss Cara, dear? He has grown up that handsome you would not know him. He was always a fine boy; but now--I don’t know as I’ve ever seen a nicer-looking young man.’