Seleneck accepted the languidly outstretched hand with a feeling so akin to alarm that he caught little more than a general impression of his guest’s appearance. It was not often that his good-natured, easy-going wife rose to heights of real indignation, but when she did, the signs of storm were not absent, and he had recognised them all too clearly in the rather high-pitched voice and flushed face. Moreover, he became now acutely aware of a certain strained politeness in the atmosphere which had hitherto been unknown in the relations between the two women. Once he even caught Nora’s eyes fixed on his with such an expression of trouble in their depths that he was convinced something unpleasant had happened, and became almost indignant with his Elsa, who firmly refused to allow the conversation to flow in any but the most cold and formal channels. The young man took no part in the talk, halting and spasmodic as it naturally became. He appeared to know no German; and as Seleneck’s English was of a limited description, intercourse between them was more or less impossible. Seleneck took the opportunity to study this new arrival, of whom he had indeed heard little that was complimentary; but his cautious survey gave him no great satisfaction. In truth, Berlin and the few weeks of unlimited freedom had not improved Miles. He was, as always, scrupulously dressed and had a certain air of the "man-about-town" which contrasted with his otherwise uneasy and rather boorish manners. It was a little hard to imagine that he had ever held a lieutenant’s commission, still harder to believe that he was Nora von Arnim’s brother. There was no resemblance between the two, as Seleneck noticed with satisfaction. Miles’s face was round and sallow, and he had a peculiar trick of furtively glancing about him which was directly opposed to Nora’s frank and at that moment defiant gaze. As a matter of fact, though his critic did not know it, Miles had developed on his father’s lines, with the one difference that the Rev. John’s habits were those of a naturally nervous and diffident character, whereas Miles, having no nerves to complain of, had still a rooted objection to looking any one in the face. As he sat, alternately staring at the carpet and casting curious, supercilious glances round the poorly furnished drawing-room, Seleneck passed judgment on him. "You drink, and can’t stand it," he thought, and then, remembering Bauer, added, "and probably gamble." Which proved that Seneleck, though neither a diplomatist nor a strategian, was at least something of a judge of character. At that moment Nora rose hastily to her feet. The conversation had languished beyond hope of recovery, and, moreover, she had seen something in her host’s expression which made her cheeks burn with a curious mixture of shame and anger. "We must really go," she said nervously. "We have stayed far too long—I hope you will forgive us."