Demos | Page 8

order. His head was held stiffly, and his whole bearing betrayed a
desire to make the most of his defective stature. His shake of the hand
was an abrupt downward jerk, like a pull at a bell-rope. In the smile
with which he met Mr. Wyvern a supercilious frame of mind was not
altogether concealed; he seemed anxious to have it understood that in
him the clerical attire inspired nothing whatever of superstitious
reverence. Reverence, in truth, was not Mr. Waltham's failing.

Mr. Wyvern, as his habit was at introductions, spoke no words, but held
the youth's hand for a few moments and looked him in the eyes. Alfred
turned his head aside uneasily, and was a trifle ruddy in the cheeks
when at length he regained his liberty.
'By-the-by,' he remarked to his mother when he had seated himself,
with crossed legs, 'Eldon has turned up at last. He passed us in a cab, or
so Adela said. I didn't catch a glimpse of the individual.'
'Really!' exclaimed Mrs. Waltham. 'He was coming from Agworth
station?'
'I suppose so. There was a trunk on the four-wheeler. Adela says he
looked ill, though I don't see how she discovered so much.'
'I have no doubt she is right. He must have been ill.'
Mr. Wyvern, in contrast with his habit, was paying marked attention;
he leaned forward, with a hand on each knee. In the meanwhile the
preparations for tea had progressed, and as Mrs. Waltham rose at the
sight of the teapot being brought in, her daughter entered the room.
Adela was taller by half a head than her brother; she was slim and
graceful. The air had made her face bloom, and the smile which was
added as she drew near to the vicar enhanced the charm of a
countenance at all times charming. She was not less than ladylike in
self-possession, but Mr. Wyvern's towering sableness clearly awed her
a little. For an instant her eyes drooped, but at once she raised them and
met the severe gaze with unflinching orbs. Releasing her hand, Mr.
Wyvern performed a singular little ceremony: he laid his right palm
very gently on her nutbrown hair, and his lips moved. At the same time
he all but smiled.
Alfred's face was a delightful study the while; it said so clearly,
'Confound the parson's impudence!' Mrs. Waltham, on the other hand,
looked pleased as she rustled to her place at the tea-tray.
'So Mr. Eldon has come?' she said, glancing at Adela. 'Alfred says he
looks ill.'
'Mother,' interposed the young man, 'pray be accurate. I distinctly stated
that I did not even see him, and should not have known that it was he at
all. Adela is responsible for that assertion.'
'I just saw his face,' the girl said naturally. 'I thought he looked ill.'
Mr. Wyvern addressed to her a question about her walk, and for a few
minutes they conversed together. There was a fresh simplicity in

Adela's way of speaking which harmonised well with her appearance
and with the scene in which she moved. A gentle English girl, this
dainty home, set in so fair and peaceful a corner of the world, was just
the abode one would have chosen for her. Her beauty seemed a part of
the burgeoning spring-time, She was not lavish of her smiles; a timid
seriousness marked her manner to the clergyman, and she replied to his
deliberately-posed questions with a gravity respectful alike of herself
and of him.
In front of Mr. Wyvern stood a large cake, of which a portion was
already sliced. The vicar, at Adela's invitation, accepted a piece of the
cake; having eaten this, he accepted another; then yet another. His
absence had come back upon him, and he talked he continued to eat
portions of the cake, till but a small fraction of the original structure
remained on the dish. Alfred, keenly observant of what was going on,
pursed his lips from time to time and looked at his mother with
exaggerated gravity, leading her eyes to the vanishing cake. Even
Adela could not but remark the reverend gentleman's abnormal appetite,
but she steadily discouraged her brother's attempts to draw her into the
joke. At length it came to pass that Mr. Wyvern himself, stretching his
hand mechanically to the dish, became aware that he had. exhibited his
appreciation of the sweet food in a degree not altogether sanctioned by
usage. He fixed his eyes on the tablecloth, and was silent for a while.
As soon as the vicar had taken his departure Alfred threw himself into a
chair, thrust out his legs, and exploded in laughter.
'By Jove!' he shouted. 'If that man doesn't experience symptoms of
disorder! Why, I should be prostrate for a week if I