He had no wish or intention of being disrespectful. Simply, he had ‘beaten his music out’ with more difficulty than any one knew, save himself, and was mildly surprised to find that the resulting harmony, which sounded not ill in his own ears, should cause his mother such shuddering, should fall so discordantly upon her perceptions. He had no more idea of interrupting the flow of that harmony than he had of sharing his ample estate with all the paupers in Thanshope. Fortunately, at this juncture, Hugo came into the room, his odd, original young face looking still more peculiar in contrast with his careful evening dress, and before many words had been exchanged ‘Miss Spenceley’ was announced. Sebastian turned, with the story of Frederick Spenceley and his already conceived contempt for him strong in his mind, to confront Frederick Spenceley’s sister. His glance softened as it fell upon the girl advancing towards his mother. Had he wandered through all the cities of Europe and seen their lovely women, in order to come home and find in a provincial manufacturing town a daughter of the people more beautiful than any of them? ‘Helena, my love, let me introduce my son, who has arrived sooner than I expected. Sebastian, Miss Spenceley.’ A profound bow on his part, and a rather careless, not very sophisticated inclination of her beautiful head on hers, was the result of these phrases of politeness. ‘My son’s friend, Mr. von Birkenau,’ was then introduced, and received the same notice exactly, a notice graceful and even dignified, because she could not help all her movements being graceful and dignified. ‘Like my daughter,’ Mrs. Mallory had said, and as she spoke to Helena Spenceley her voice assuredly took a tender accent; she glanced over the young lady’s costly dress, and smoothed down a lace ruffle with the affectionate familiarity of a very intimate friend or much-loved relative. Miss Spenceley remained standing on the hearthrug, talking to Mrs. Mallory--a lovely, noble figure, tall, slim, and shapely, with the exquisite elasticity of perfect health in every line. ‘Splendid!’ said Sebastian, in his own mind; and splendid expressed her appearance and her character both. From her great dark, soft eyes, her dusky hair, in its delicate unruly little rings and tendrils, her ripe red lips, set in a delicious curve of mirth, frankness, and wilfulness, down to her rich dress and sparkling rings, she was all splendid, without being in the least vulgar. ‘Dear child, what a long time it is since I saw you!’ said Mrs. Mallory. ‘Yes. I have been busy. How nice this fire is, Mrs. Mallory. I do believe we have not had one at our house yet. Perhaps it is lighted on your behalf?’ she added, turning to Sebastian with a somewhat malicious smile. ‘Mine? Not so far as I am aware. What makes you think so?’