Both bowed gravely, and as they looked up their eyes met in one swift and swiftly withdrawn glance.
And before a word could be exchanged between them the doors were thrown open and the butler announced:
"My lady is served."
"Sir Lemuel, will you give your arm to Lady ——, and allow me to take Miss Levison in to dinner?" said the noble host, drawing the young lady's hand within his arm.
"Mr. John Scott" took in Lady Belgrave.
At dinner Miss Levison found herself seated nearly opposite to the young marquis. She could not watch him, she could not even lift her eyes to his face, but she could not chose but listen to every syllable that fell from his lips. It was the cue of some of the leading politicians present to draw out this young apostle of the reform cause. And of course they proceeded to do it.
The young journalist, modest and reserved at first, as became a disciple in the presence of the leaders of the great cause, gradually grew more communicative, then animated, then eloquent.
Among his hearers, none listened with a deeper interest than Salome Levison. Although he did not address one syllable of his conversation to her, nor cast one glance of his eyes upon her, yet she hung upon his words as though they had been the oracles of a prophet.
If the high ideal honor and reverence in which she held him, could have been increased by any circumstance, it must have been from the sentiments expressed, the principles declared in his discourse.
She saw before her, not only the loyal son, who had sacrificed himself to save his father, but she saw also in him the reformer, enlightener, educator and benefactor of his race and age.