“And how was this kindness evidenced,--in your own case I mean?” said Lady Augusta, not heeding her question. “By advice, by counsel, by the generous interference which procured for me my present station here, not to speak of the spirit of his letters to me.” “So then you correspond with him?” asked she, reddening suddenly. “Yes,” said she, turning her eyes fully on the other. And thus they stood for some seconds, when, with a slight, but very slight, motion of impatience, Lady Augusta said,-- “I was not aware--I mean, I don't remember your having mentioned this circumstance to me.” “I should have done so if I thought it could have had any interest for you,” said Sybella, calmly. “Oh, there is the carriage coming up the drive; I knew I was not mistaken.” Lady Augusta made no reply, but returned hastily to the house. Bella paused for a few seconds, and followed her. No sooner was Mr. Dunn's carriage seen approaching the little bridge over the stream than Lord Glengariff rang to order dinner. “It will be a rebuke he well merits,” said he, “to find the soup on the table as he drives up.” There was something more than a mere movement of irritation in this; his Lordship regarded it as a fine stroke of policy, by which Dunn's arrival, tinged with constraint and awkwardness, should place that gentleman at a disadvantage during the time he stayed, Lord Glengariff's favorite theory being that “these people were insufferable when at their ease.” Ah, my Lord, your memory was picturing the poor tutor of twenty years before, snubbed and scoffed at for his ungainly ways and ill-made garments,--the man heavy in gait and awkward in address, sulky when forgotten, and shy when spoken to,--this was the Davenport Dunn of your thoughts; there the very door _he_ used to creep through in bashful confusion, yonder the side-table where he dined in a mockery of consideration. Little, indeed, were you prepared for him whose assured voice was already heard outside giving orders to his servant, and who now entered the drawing-room with all the ease of a man of the world. “Ah, Dunn, most happy to see you here. No accident, I trust, occurred to detain you,” said Lord Glengariff, meeting him with a well-assumed cordiality, and then, not waiting for his reply, went on: “My daughter, Lady Augusta, an old acquaintance--if you have not forgotten her. Miss Kellett you are acquainted with.” Mr. Dunn bowed twice, and deeply, before Lady Augusta, and then, passing across the room, shook hands warmly with Sybella. “How did you find the roads, Dunn?” asked his Lordship, still fishing about for some stray word of apology; “rather heavy, I fear, at this season.” “Capital roads, my Lord, and excellent horses. We came along at a rate which would have astonished the lumbering posts of the Continent.” “Dinner, my Lord,” said the butler, throwing wide the folding-doors. “Will you give Lady Augusta your arm, Dunn?” said Lord Glengariff, as he offered his own to Miss Kellett.