her chair very near, as if she felt that the sound of the conversation should be subdued, and looked at her visitor with placid expectation, while Gwendolen began in a low tone, with something that seemed like bashfulness—
"Perhaps you wonder to see me—perhaps I ought to have written—but I wished to make a particular request."
"I am glad to see you instead of having a letter," said Mirah, wondering at the changed expression and manner of the "Vandyke duchess," as Hans had taught her to call Gwendolen. The rich colour and the calmness of her own face were in strong contrast with the pale agitated beauty under the plumed hat.
"I thought," Gwendolen went on—"at least, I hoped you would not object to sing at our house on the 4th—in the evening—at a party like Lady Brackenshaw's. I should be so much obliged."
"I shall be very happy to sing for you. At half-past nine or ten?" said Mirah, while Gwendolen seemed to get more instead of less embarrassed.
"At half-past nine, please," she answered; then paused, and felt that she had nothing more to say. She could not go. It was impossible to rise and say good-bye. Deronda's voice was in her ears.
