"Mrs. Sylvestre," said Tredennis. "Richard told me she was with you, and I was wondering why I did not see her."
"You did not see her," said Bertha, "because I wished her to dawn upon you slowly, and, having that end in view, I arranged that Mr. Arbuthnot should occupy her attention when I saw you enter."
"He couldn't stand it all at once, could he?" remarked Planefield, whose manner of giving her his attention was certainly not grudging. He kept his eyes fixed on her face, and apparently found entertainment in her most trivial speech.
"It was not that, exactly," she answered. Then she spoke to Tredennis.
"She is ten times as beautiful as she was," she said, "and it would not be possible to calculate how many times more charming."
"That was not necessary," responded Tredennis.
He could not remove his own eyes from her face, even while he was resenting the fact that Planefield looked at her; he himself watched her every movement and change of expression.
"It was entirely unnecessary," she returned; "but it is the truth."
"You are trying to prejudice him against her," said Planefield.
"She is my ideal of all that a beautiful woman ought to be," she replied, "and I should like to form myself upon her."