The passion melted out of Lottie’s countenance. Her eyes softened--the very lines of her figure, all proud and erect and vehement, melted too as if by a spell--the flush of anger on her cheek changed to a rose-red of gentler feeling. The transformation was exactly what the most accomplished actress would have desired to make, with the eye of an able manager inspecting her possibilities. “I beg your pardon,” she said instinctively, with a sudden sense of guilt. It shocked her to be found so full of passion, so out of harmony with the melodious visitor who was in perfect tune and keeping with the sweet morning, and in whose presence all the vulgarities about seemed doubly vulgar. She felt humble, yet not humiliated. Here was at last one who would understand her, who would do her justice. She looked round to find a seat for him, confused, not knowing what to say. “May I come here?” said Rollo, pushing forward for her the little chair from which she had evidently risen, and placing himself upon the narrow window-seat with his back to the light. “But let me give up my credentials first. My aunt is--what shall I say?--a little indolent, Miss Despard. Dear Aunt Caroline, it is an unkind word--shall I say she is not fond of action? Pardon if it is I who have acted as secretary. I do so constantly now that Augusta is away.” “Lottie,” said Mrs. O’Shaughnessy, as Lottie, confused, took the note from his hand, and the chair he offered; “me dear!--you have not presented me to your friend.” Rollo got up instantly and bowed, as Lottie faltered forth his name (“A real bow,” Mrs. O’Shaughnessy said after; “sure you never get the like but in the upper classes”), while she herself, not to be outdone, rose too, and extended a warm hand--(“What does the woman expect me to do with her hand?” was Mr. Ridsdale’s alarmed commentary on his side). “I’m proud to make your acquaintance, sir,” said Mrs. O’Shaughnessy. “Me husband the Major was once a great friend of an uncle of yours, Mr. Ridsdale--or maybe it was a cousin; when we were out in Canada, in the Hundred and Fiftieth--the Honourable Mr. Green; they were together in musketry practice, and me Major had the pleasure of being of a great deal of use to the gentleman. Many a time he’s told me of it; and when we came here, sure it was a pleasure to find out that me Lady Caroline was aunt--or maybe it was cousin to an old friend. I am very glad to make your acquaintance,” Mrs. O’Shaughnessy continued, shaking him warmly by the hand, which she had held all this time. Mr. Ridsdale kept bowing at intervals, and had done all that he could, without positive rudeness, to get himself free. “Oh, yes,” he said, “I have cousins and uncles and that sort of thing scattered through the earth in every regiment under the sun; and very bad soldiers, I don’t doubt, always wanting somebody to look after them. I am sure Major O’Shaughnessy was very kind. Won’t you sit down?”