spicacity that illumined her conversation and colored what might otherwise be a rather bored and repressed, though perfectly polite habit of talk. She seemed aloof, waiting for something interesting, all but effete. Her smile was elusive; but, when it came forth, compelling, captivating, and as soon as it had created that impression, it faded and the weary manner asserted itself again. Only the mouth was temperamental. The gray eyes were well schooled, though velvety soft. She had a trick of half raising one eyebrow, which gave a whimsical relief to her haughty pose. One could fancy her always playing a part and wonder what the real woman would be like. Not very different from other women, after all, if one judged by the quivering lips.
This, at least, is the way Astro described the woman to Valeska later. He was waiting in the reception-room, looking at a novel entitled The Guerdon, when Mrs. Stellery entered, one brow delicately arched, as if she had not been quite sure whom she was to find.
He introduced himself, and for a moment she seemed embarrassed and turned the conversation to the novel.
"Have you read it?" she asked. "I met the author. Mr. Askerson, lately in Philadelphia at a dinner, and he sent me the book. I saw him only twice; but he seemed quite an extraordinary man."
Astro turned to the title page, and before finding it noticed the inscription on the fly-leaf, "Viola Stellery: Her Book," a quaint-enough wording to arouse his smile. "A problem?" he asked.
"Love after marriage—the modern theme," she replied.
