The announcement at first rendered him perfectly mute; he heard it without power to make the slightest observation; and it was only at the end of a lengthy description from the two sisters, that he exclaimed, in a kind of half soliloquy, “By Jove, it is so like her, after all!” “I 'm sure of it,” said Nelly; “her manner was kindness and gentleness itself. You should have seen the tender way she took poor Hansells hand in her own, and how eagerly she asked us to translate for her the few stray words he uttered.” “Of course she did. I could swear to it all, now that my eyes are opened.” “And with what winning grace she spoke!” cried Kate. “How the least phrase came from her lips with a fascination that still haunts me!” “Just so, just so!” muttered Grounsell. “How such traits of benevolence ennoble high station!” said Nelly. “How easy to credit all that one hears of the charms of intercourse, where manner like hers prevails on every side!” cried Kate, enthusiastically. “How thoughtful in all her kindness!” “What elegance in every movement!” “With what inborn courtesy she accepted the little valueless attentions, which were all we could render her!” “How beautiful she looked, in all the disorder of a dress so unlike her own splendor! I could almost fancy that old straw chair to be a handsome fauteuil since she sat in it.” “How delightful it must be to be admitted to the freedom of daily intercourse with such a person, to live within the atmosphere of such goodness and such refinement!” And thus they went on ringing the changes upon every gift and grace, from the genial warmth of her heart, to the snowy whiteness of her dimpled hands; while Grouusell fidgeted in his chair, searched for his handkerchief, his spectacles, his snuff-box, dropped them all in turn, and gathered them up again, in a perfect fever of embarrassment and indecision. “And you see her every day, doctor?” said Nelly. “Yes, every day, madam,” said he, hastily, and not noticing nor thinking to whom he was replying. “And is she always as charming, always as fascinating?” “Pretty much the same, I think,” said he, with a grunt. “How delightful! And always in the same buoyancy of spirits?” “Very little changed in that respect,” said he, with another grunt. “We have often felt for poor Sir Stafford being taken ill away from his home, and obliged to put up with the miserable resources of a watering-place in winter; but I own, when I think of the companionship of Lady Hester, much of my compassion vanishes.” “He needs it all, then,” said Grounsell, as, thrusting his hands into the recesses of his pockets, he sat a perfect picture of struggling embarrassment. “Are his sufferings so very great?”