Just as you can tell at sight whether certain persons attract or repel you, through some unknown, nameless influence that you are unable to fathom; so, in like degree, can you decide--that is, if you possess a naturally sensitive mind--whether they are drawn towards yourself or remain antipathetical. I know that _I_ can tell without asking them, if people whom I see for the first time are likely to fancy me or not; and, at all events, I had some inward monition which warned me that Mrs Clyde, contrary to my earnest wish that she should regard me in a friendly light, was not one of those amiable beings who would "cotton to me," as the inhabitants of New England express the sentiment in their pointed vernacular. Perhaps you think me a very egotistical person, thus to dwell upon my own ideas and feelings? You must recollect, however, that I'm telling you this story myself, a story in which I am both actively and intimately interested; and how, unless I speak of my own self, are you going to learn anything about me? I have nobody to describe me, so I _must_ be what you call "egotistical." Yes, Mrs Clyde did not like me. I do not mean to say, remember, that she was impolite, or grim, or wanting in courtesy. The reverse was the case, as she was one of the smoothest, suavest persons you ever met. But, there is an exquisitely refined way in which a woman of the world can make you understand that your presence is "de trop" and your society distasteful, without saying a single word that might be construed into an offence against good breeding. Mrs Clyde was a thorough mistress of this art. Her searching eye could appraise at a glance a man's mental calibre or a lady's toilette. It seemed to pierce you through and through, exploring your inmost thoughts, and enlightening her as to what her course of procedure should be in regard to you, before she had spoken a word, or you either. So _I_ believed at any rate; for, to tell the honest truth, I was horribly afraid of Min's mother. I always felt on tenter hooks in her presence, from the very first date of our acquaintanceship. On coming into the room where Min and I were regarding Dicky Chip's performances with loving eyes, and I completely "translated" by various combinating influences, Mrs Clyde appeared to take in the situation in an instant--"an eyewink," as a minute portion of time is happily rendered in the Teutonic tongue. Certainly, she grasped everything at a glance--even the contingency that might have possibly occurred, for, my embarrassment was not lost upon her. I saw an anxious expression hover across her face for a second, to be quickly replaced by her ordinary society look of calm, studied suavity. "Oh!" she exclaimed, in well-feigned astonishment at my presence--"Mr Lorton, how d'ye do!" "How do you do, Mrs Clyde?" said I, straightening myself up, and then bending in feeble attempt at a bow.