THE BETTER SORT
X
He was coming in as they came out; and his "I hoped I might find you," an exhalation of cool candour that they took full in the face, had the effect, the next moment, of a great soft carpet, all flowers and figures, suddenly unrolled for them to walk upon and before which they felt a scruple. Their ejaculation, Maud was conscious, couldn't have passed for a welcome, and it wasn't till she saw the poor gentleman checked a little, in turn, by their blankness, that she fully perceived how interesting they had just become to themselves. His face, however, while, in their arrest, they neither proposed to re-enter the shop with him nor invited him to proceed with them anywhere else—his face, gaping there, for Bight's promised instructions, like a fair receptacle, shallow but with all the capacity of its flatness, brought back so to our young woman the fond fancy her companion had last excited in him that he profited just a little—and for sympathy in spite of his folly—by her sense that with her too the latter had somehow amused himself. This placed her, for the brief instant, in a strange fellowship with their visitor's plea, under the impulse of which, without more thought, she had turned to Bight. "Your eager claimant," she, however, simply said, "for the opportunity now so beautifully created."
"I've ventured," Mr. Marshal glowed back, "to come and remind you that the hours are fleeting."
Bight had surveyed him with eyes perhaps equivocal. "You're afraid someone else will step in?"
"Well, with the place so tempting and so empty———" Maud made herself again his voice. "Mr Marshal sees it empty itself perhaps too fast."
He acknowledged, in his large, bright way, the help
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