'He looks unhappy.'
'Very,' said Mr. Pole. 'Evidently something on his conscience.'
'They do whisper very odd things,' said the lady, with great curiosity. 'Do you think there is anything in them?'
'Oh! no doubt,' said Mr. Pole; 'look at him; you can detect crime in every glance.'
'Dear me, how shocking! I think he must be the most interesting person that ever lived. I should so like to know him! They say he is so very odd.'
'Very,' said Mr. Pole. 'He must be a man of genius; he is so unlike everybody; the very tie of his cravat proves it. And his hair, so savage and dishevelled; none but a man of genius would not wear powder. Watch him to-day, and you will observe that he will not condescend to perform the slightest act like an ordinary mortal. I met him at dinner yesterday at Fanshawe's, and he touched nothing but biscuits and soda-water. Fanshawe, you know, is famous for his cook. Complimentary and gratifying, was it not?'
'Dear me!' said the lady, 'I am delighted to see him; and yet I hope I shall not sit by him at dinner. I am quite afraid of him.'
'He is really awful!' said Mr. Pole.
In the meantime the subject of these observations slowly withdrew to the further end of the saloon, apart from every one, and threw himself upon a couch with a somewhat discontented air. Lady Monteagle, whose eye had never left him for a moment, although her attentions had been necessarily commanded by her guests, and who dreaded the silent rages in which Cadurcis constantly indulged, and which, when once assumed for the day, were with difficulty dissipated, seized the first opportunity to join and soothe him.
'Dear Cadurcis,' she said, 'why do you sit here? You know I am obliged to speak to all these odious people, and it is very cruel of you.'