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He preserved some of the Oxford tradition in tone and manner. He had brown hair turning gray, a drooping mustache and wore pince-nez secured by a broad black cord. Being very short-sighted his eyes seen through the thick lenses were almost expressionless. "Zora Middlemist," said he, squeezing lemon over his oysters, "is a grand and splendid creature whom I admire vastly.
He obeyed with a docility which sent a little tingle of exaltation through Mrs. Middlemist. A woman may have an inordinate antipathy to men, but she loves them to do her bidding. Zora was a woman; she was also young. He returned. The cabman whipped up his strong pair of horses, and they started through the town towards Mentone.
He laid down the poker and crossed the room to a chair. "I've often thought of what you said in Paris about her going away. You were quite right. You have a genius for saying and doing the simple right thing. We almost began our friendship by your saying it. Do you remember? It was in Monte Carlo. You remember that you didn't like my looking on Mrs. Middlemist as an advertisement.
Sypher had come prepared to break the news as gently as he could; but after all their talk it was not in his heart to do so. And the two hundred pounds he regarded it as money given to a child to play with. He would never claim it. He was sorry, very sorry for Septimus. He looked back along the past year and saw the man's dog-like devotion to Zora Middlemist.
In the hall they encountered Crewe himself, who stood there conversing with Beatrice. A few words were exchanged by the two men, and Horace followed his enchantress into the drawing-room, where he found, seated in conversation with Mrs. Peachey, two persons whom he had occasionally met here. One of them, Mrs. Middlemist, was a stout, coarse, high-coloured woman, with fingers much bejewelled.
There was no mission on earth which she could fulfil. She thought enviously of Cousin Jane. The steamer entered the harbor; the passengers for Marseilles landed, and the mail was brought aboard. There was only one letter for Mrs. Middlemist. It bore the Nunsmere postmark. She opened it and found the tail of the little china dog.
It shall be instantly removed. There!" He held out his hand. She gave him hers and he pressed it warmly. "Are you going to give up the house now that it's useless?" she asked. "Do you wish me to?" "What have I to do with it?" "Zora Middlemist," said he, "I'm a superstitious man in some things. You have everything to do with my success.
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