The woman in Cleopatra now urged her to show more animation, beneath this young man's gaze, than was compatible with her avowed condition of extreme lassitude and feebleness.
"I only said I did not wish to see you," she declared, "because I felt better alone."
He was a little staggered by the extraordinary beauty of this girl who so far had not taken her eyes off him. He had expected that Mrs. Delarayne's daughters would be beautiful,—and in Leonetta he had had his expectations confirmed. In Cleopatra, however, as he surveyed her then, he discerned a degree of nobility and pride, which were apparent neither in her mother nor her sister, and which lent a singular queenliness to her impelling charms.
"There, of course, you were wrong," he said with gentle persuasiveness, blinking rapidly. "We are no longer wild beasts of prey who can creep into caves to recover or die alone. We are human beings, social animals. Two heads are better than one, even in the matter of getting well."
She frowned and her expression grew more solemn than ever. If this were Lord Henry, the mental picture she had formed of him had evidently been very far from the truth; nor had Denis Malster's description of him been even fair. She wondered, as she examined his fine thoughtful head, and handsome athletic figure, telling to such advantage in his impeccable attire, what motive Denis could have had in saying what he had about the young noblemen before her. She was deeply interested, and for the time being this feeling overcame every other motive in her breast.
"If people don't understand you," she said, "it is surely better to be alone."
He smiled in his roguish irresistible way. "If—" he repeated.
A slight flush sprang into Cleopatra's cheeks, and quickly vanished again. He was distinctly attractive—almost bewildering. She was going to expostulate: "Surely you don't imagine that," when something which she read in his face, in his intelligent hands, and in his general manner made her feel that the words would sound banal.
"I wish you wouldn't stay with me, Lord Henry," she pleaded. He rose. Whatever she may have meant, the plea sounded sincere enough, and he did not wish to harass her.
"Of course I won't," he said, "if it is unpleasant to you," and he moved towards the door.