Anne's wooden, inexpressive countenance was a great comfort to Sir Charles, in some moods. Though she was clever enough, she did not have that superfluity of sympathy and responsiveness that makes one go away regretting one has said so much, and disliking the other person for one's expansion. One never felt that she had understood too accurately, nor that one had given oneself away, nor been indiscreetly curious.... It was like talking to a chair. What a good sort Anne was! CHAPTER III Anne Yeo 'Would you like me to play to you a little?' Anne asked, when Hyacinth had returned and was sitting in the carved-oak chimney-corner, looking thoughtful and picturesque. 'Oh no, please don't! Besides, I know you can't' 'No, thank goodness!' exclaimed Anne. 'I know I'm useful and practical, and I don't mind that; but anyhow, I'm not cheerful, musical, and a perfect lady, in exchange for a comfortable home, am I?' 'No, indeed,' said Hyacinth fervently. 'No-one can speak of me as "that pleasant, cultivated creature who lives with Miss Verney," can they?' 'Not, at any rate, if they have any regard for truth,' said Hyacinth. 'I wish you wouldn't make me laugh. Why should I have a sense of humour? I sometimes think that all your friends imagine it's part of my duty to shriek with laughter at their wretched jokes. It wasn't in the contract. If I were pretty, my ambition would have been to be an adventuress; but an adventuress with no adventures would be a little flat. I might have the worst intentions, but I should never have the chance of carrying them out. So I try to be as much as possible like Thackeray's shabby companion in a dyed silk.' 'Is that why you wear a sackcloth blouse trimmed with ashes?' said Hyacinth, with curiosity. 'No, that's merely stinginess. It's my nature to be morbidly economical, though I know I needn't be. If I hadn't had L500 a year left me, I should never have been able to come and live here, and drop all my horrid relations. I enjoy appearing dependent and being a spectator, and I've absolutely given up all interest in my own affairs. In fact, I haven't got any. And I take the keenest interest in other people's--romances. Principally, of course, in yours.' 'I'm sure I don't want you to be so vicarious as all that--thanks awfully,' said Hyacinth. 'At any rate, don't dress like a skeleton at the feast tomorrow, if you don't mind. I've asked the little Ottleys to dinner--and, I want Charles to come.' 'Oh, of course, if you expect Cecil Reeve!--I suppose you do, as you haven't mentioned it--I'll put on my real clothes to do you credit.' She looked out of the window. 'Here's poor old Charles again. How he does dislike Lady Cannon!' 'What a shame, Anne! He's angelic to her.' 'That's what I meant,' said Anne, going out quickly.