Glasses | Page 7

at first for a foreigner and for something of a
pretender: I scarce know why unless because of the motive I felt in the
stare he fixed on me when I asked Miss Saunt to come away. He struck
me a little as a young man practising the social art of impertinence; but
it didn't matter, for Flora came away with alacrity, bringing all her
prettiness and pleasure and gliding over the grass in that rustle of
delicate mourning which made the endless variety of her garments, as a
painter could take heed, strike one always as the same obscure elegance.
She seated herself on the floor of my mother's chair, a little too much
on her right instep as I afterwards gathered, caressing her still hand,
smiling up into her cold face, commending and approving her without a
reserve and without a doubt. She told her immediately, as if it were
something for her to hold on by, that she was soon to sit to me for a
"likeness," and these words gave me a chance to enquire if it would be
the fate of the picture, should I finish it, to be presented to the young
man in the knickerbockers. Her lips, at this, parted in a stare; her eyes
darkened to the purple of one of the shadow-patches on the sea. She

showed for the passing instant the face of some splendid tragic mask,
and I remembered for the inconsequence of it what Mrs. Meldrum had
said about her sight. I had derived from this lady a worrying impulse to
catechise her, but that didn't seem exactly kind; so I substituted another
question, inquiring who the pretty young man in knickerbockers might
happen to be.
"Oh a gentleman I met at Boulogne. He has come over to see me."
After a moment she added: "Lord Iffield."
I had never heard of Lord Iffield, but her mention of his having been at
Boulogne helped me to give him a niche. Mrs. Meldrum had
incidentally thrown a certain light on the manners of Mrs. Floyd-
Taylor, Flora's recent hostess in that charming town, a lady who, it
appeared, had a special vocation for helping rich young men to find a
use for their leisure. She had always one or other in hand and had
apparently on this occasion pointed her lesson at the rare creature on
the opposite coast. I had a vague idea that Boulogne was not a resort of
the world's envied; at the same time there might very well have been a
strong attraction there even for one of the darlings of fortune. I could
perfectly understand in any case that such a darling should be drawn to
Folkestone by Flora Saunt. But it was not in truth of these things I was
thinking; what was uppermost in my mind was a matter which, though
it had no sort of keeping, insisted just then on coming out.
"Is it true, Miss Saunt," I suddenly demanded, "that you're so
unfortunate as to have had some warning about your beautiful eyes?"
I was startled by the effect of my words; the girl threw back her head,
changing colour from brow to chin. "True? Who in the world says so?"
I repented of my question in a flash; the way she met it made it seem
cruel, and I felt my mother look at me in some surprise. I took care, in
answer to Flora's challenge, not to incriminate Mrs. Meldrum. I
answered that the rumour had reached me only in the vaguest form and
that if I had been moved to put it to the test my very real interest in her
must be held responsible. Her blush died away, but a pair of still
prettier tears glistened in its track. "If you ever hear such a thing said
again you can say it's a horrid lie!" I had brought on a commotion

deeper than any I was prepared for; but it was explained in some degree
by the next words she uttered: "I'm happy to say there's nothing the
matter with any part of me whatever, not the least little thing!" She
spoke with her habitual complacency, with triumphant assurance; she
smiled again, and I could see how she wished that she hadn't so taken
me up. She turned it off with a laugh. "I've good eyes, good teeth, a
good digestion and a good temper. I'm sound of wind and limb!"
Nothing could have been more characteristic than her blush and her
tears, nothing less acceptable to her than to be thought not perfect in
every particular. She couldn't submit to the imputation of a flaw. I
expressed my delight in what she told me, assuring her I should always
do battle for her; and as if to