"The evil is done. It is most unlikely I should meet any one else I know—though more curious things than that happen. Fancy Mr. George knowing him, too! Such an odd coincidence! Here he comes."
Mr. George's brow was clouded. He looked meaningly into Elizabeth's face.
"It was a surprise, meeting Mr. Elton here." They exchanged glances. "Do you think he will be a pleasant addition to our party?"
"I had rather he were not coming."
"You think he won't be 'in his plate,' as the French say?"
"There are really so many plates," interposed Miss Baring, "that I should say he might find one to suit him."
"There is no political plate. He is nothing if not oratorical. Do you care for oratory, Miss Shaw?"
"I don't know if I do or not. I never heard any. When do you expect to be recalled to England, Mr. George?"
Miss Baring looked up quickly. "Are you really going?"
"Possibly. I shall know to-morrow or next day. I am afraid you will not weep at my departure, Miss Baring," he added, with a laugh.
"I am not given to weeping," she replied.
Elizabeth felt her heart rather softened. Certainly the young man was not mercenary. So far, he was better than this tiresome pertinacious lord. She said nothing, but walked off to a distant picture; and he followed her. Miss Baring also followed, but more slowly.
"Why do you remain in Paris, Miss Shaw?" he said
