The striking of the hour reminded her that she had forgotten to

prepare for dinner. Khe hastily took off her hat, washed her hands,

spent another minute among the mirrors, and was summoning courage to

ring the bell, when a doubt occurred to her. Ought she to put on her

gloves before going down or not? This kept her in perplexity for

many seconds. At last she resolved to put her gloves in her pocket,

and be guided as to their further disposal by the example of her

hostess. Then, not daring to hesitate any longer, she rang the bell,

and was presently joined by a French lady of polished manners--Miss

Carew's maid who conducted her to the boudoir, a hexagonal apartment

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that, Alice thought, a sultana might have envied. Lydia was there,

reading. Alice noted with relief that she had not changed her dress,

and that she was ungloved.

Miss Goff did not enjoy the dinner. There was a butler who seemed to

have nothing to do but stand at a buffet and watch her. There was

also a swift, noiseless footman who presented himself at her elbow

at intervals and compelled her to choose on the instant between

unfamiliar things to eat and drink. She envied these men their

knowledge of society, and shrank from their criticism. Once, after

taking a piece of asparagus in her hand, she was deeply mortified at

seeing her hostess consume the vegetable with the aid of a knife and

fork; but the footman's back was turned to her just then, and the

butler, oppressed by the heat of the weather, was in a state of

abstraction bordering on slumber. On the whole, by dint of imitating

Miss Oarew, who did not plague her with any hostess-like vigilance,

she came off without discredit to her breeding.

Lydia, on her part, acknowledged no obligation to entertain her

guest by chatting, and enjoyed her thoughts and her dinner in

silence. Alice began to be fascinated by her, and to wonder what she

was thinking about. She fancied that the footman was not quite free

from the same influence. Even the butler might have been meditating

himself to sleep on the subject. Alice felt tempted to offer her a

penny for her thoughts. But she dared not be so familiar as yet.

And, had the offer been made and accepted, butler, footman, and

guest would have been plunged into equal confusion by the

explanation, which would have run thus: "I saw a vision of the Hermes of Praxiteles in a sylvan haunt

to-day; and I am thinking of that."