During this address he continued to shake Leigh's hand with an apparent cordiality that contrasted strongly with his final innuendo, but now their hands fell apart with mutual repulsion. Leigh had been prejudiced against the lawyer beforehand, and his first remarks at their introduction contained a grisly jest and an implied slight. But these things only paved the way to the final cause of distrust--the fashion of the man himself. He was unprepossessing in every line. His thin, pale face widened rapidly, like a top, to a broad and shining pate, which looked not so much bald as half naked below its sparse covering of reddish hair. His eyes were glimmering and of an indeterminate colour. Yet his voice was not unattractive in its persuasive intonation, and his manner was friendly almost to the verge of effusiveness. Whatever might be his demerits from a physical point of view, he lacked the general air of inconsequence that characterised most of his companions. He conveyed unmistakably the assurance of a certain malign power. One felt that his normal method of locomotion was the mole's, but that sooner or later he would thrust his head above the soil at the top of the hill. As they emerged upon the roof, they came face to face with Emmet. "Hello!" Cobbens cried, as the two men shook hands. "Are you taking a course in astronomy too?" "Yes," replied the other, "and I'm just about going." Their mutual cordiality of manner, somewhat in excess of the requirements of conventional courtesy, struck Leigh with a sense of the ridiculous. He had not anticipated a scene, but he had looked for some coldness and restraint. The other visitors, with a curious glance in passing, spread out over the roof or entered the cabin, but the bishop's daughter remained behind. She shifted the candle to her left hand, and offered her right to her _protege_ with charming courtesy. "Has Mr. Leigh been casting your horoscope?" she asked, smiling. "I hope he found your star in the ascendant." Leigh did not wonder that Emmet appeared dazzled, or that his bold eyes were a shade less bold in their embarrassed admiration. "Thank you, Miss Wycliffe--I think we shall win." "I hope so," she returned, with a momentary side-long look at Cobbens. The lawyer's eyes were upon her, and as Leigh caught their hungry glimmer, he remembered with a sharp contraction of the heart that he was a widower, and that sometimes the most hideous men possess a compelling fascination for women of great beauty. "Oh, astrology is out of date," Cobbens broke in, with an easy chuckle. "Isn't it, professor?" "Yes," Leigh retorted, "but I believe politics is not." The laughter with which this remark was greeted indicated the real tension that underlay all this appearance of good feeling. "Politics is never out of date," Emmet declared, with grim emphasis, "as we mean to show you soon."