"Miss Bartley, I think."
Mary lifted her eyes, and saw an elderly man with a pale face and dark eyebrows and a cast of countenance quite unlike that of any of her friends. His face repelled her directly, and she said, very coldly:
"Yes, sir; but I have not the pleasure of knowing you."
And she quietly passed on.
Monckton affected not to see that she was declining to communicate with him. He walked on quietly, and said:
"And I have not seen you since you were a child, but I had the honor of knowing your mother."
"You knew my mother, sir?"
"Knew her and respected her."
"What was she like, sir?"
"She was tall and rather dark, not like you."