But here sits one whose brow must own no curve of displeasure, whose voice must falter with no embarrassment. She is sitting by the little work-table in the window, her eyes, so wistful as they have grown, so large and full, and eloquent with many meanings, turning from one to the other with quick earnest glances, which are indeed whispers of deprecation and peace-making. “He means something else than he says; he is not cold-hearted nor insincere; you mistake Randall,” say Menie’s eyes, as they labour to meet her mother’s, and gaze with eager perturbation in her face, deciphering every line and wrinkle there. “Do not speak so--you vex my mother; but she does not mean to be angry,” say the same strained and ever-changing eyes, as they turn their anxious regards to Randall’s face. She sits between us and the light--you can see her girlish figure outlined against the window--her face falling from light to shadow, brightening up again from shadow to light, as she turns from one to the other; you can see how eagerly she listens, prompt to rush forward with her own softening gentle speech upon the very border of the harsher words, whose utterance she cannot prevent. The very stoop of her head--the changeful expression of her face, which already interprets the end of the sentence ere it is well begun--her sudden introduction of one subject after another, foreign to their former talk--her sudden interest in things indifferent, and all the wiles and artifices with which she hedges off all matters of personal or individual interest, and abstracts the conversation into the channel of mere curiosity, of careless and every-day talk--are all sufficiently visible exponents of Menie’s new position and new trials. She is talking to Lithgow now so rapidly, and with so much demonstration of interest--you would almost fancy this poor loving Menie had caught a contagious enthusiasm from Miss Annie Laurie’s juvenile delights--talking of these sights of the great unknown London, which have grown so indifferent and paltry to this suddenly enlightened and experienced mind of hers; but in the midst of all you can see how steadily her wakeful eyes keep watch upon Randall yonder by Miss Annie’s miniature bookcases, and Mrs Laurie here, with that little angry flush upon her brow.