At least he had thought so until this moment. Suddenly, as she came across the room to meet him, with her long train rustling over the carpet in a queenly manner, and a gracious welcome in her pale blue eyes, he found himself looking at her critically--comparing her complacent demeanour with the simple dignity of Elizabeth King, and her artificial elegance with the wild-flower grace of Eleanor, who was also tall and fair--and her studied sprightliness with Patty's inspired vigour--and her countenance, that was wont to be so attractive, with Patty's beautiful and intellectual face. "Ah!" said Mrs. Aarons, shaking hands with him impressively, "you have remembered my existence, then, _at last!_ Do you know how many weeks it is since you honoured me with your company?--_five_. And I wonder you can stand there and look me in the face." He said it had been his misfortune and not his fault--that he had been so immersed in business that he had had no time to indulge in pleasure. "Don't tell me. You don't have business on Friday evenings," said Mrs. Aarons promptly. "Oh, don't I?" retorted Mr. Brion (the fact being that he had spent several Friday evenings on his balcony, smoking and listening to his neighbours' music, in the most absolute and voluptuous idleness). "You ladies don't know what a press-man's life is--his nose to the grindstone at all hours of the night and day." "Poor man! Well, now you are here, come and sit down and tell me what you have been doing." She took a quick glance round the room, saw that her guests were in a fair way to support the general intercourse by voluntary contributions, set the piano and a thin-voiced young lady and some "Claribel" ditties going, and then retired with Paul to a corner sofa for a chat. She was inclined to make much of him after his long absence, and he was in a mood to be more effusive than his wont. Nevertheless, the young man did not advance, as suspicious observers supposed him to be doing, in the good graces of his charming friend--ready as she was to meet him half-way. "Of course I wanted very much to see you--it seems an awful time since I was here--but I had another reason for coming to-night," said Paul, when they had comfortably settled themselves (he was the descendant of countless gentlefolk and she had not even a father that she could conveniently call her own, yet was she constrained to blush for his bad manners and his brutal deficiency in delicacy and tact). "I want to ask a favour of you--you are always so kind and good--and I think you will not mind doing it. It is not much--at least to you--but it would be very much to them--" "To whom?" inquired Mrs. Aarons, with a little chill of disappointment and disapproval already in her voice and face. This was not what she felt she had a right to expect under the present combination of circumstances.