I have not seen him for years; but I heard he was
getting on well in the law."
"He'll have time to get tired of brunettes--if any one ever _does_ get
tired of them--before he comes back," said Guy. "He's just gone out to
try the Indian bar."
"What could have put such an idea into his head?" I asked, very
innocently.
"I can't say," was the reply; "men do take such curious fancies. It was
a sudden determination, I believe. The beauties of the Eastern
hemisphere began to develop themselves to his weak mind last summer
while he was down with his people in--Devonshire."
Involuntarily I looked at Miss Bellasys. She saw she was detected; but,
instead of betraying any embarrassment, she turned upon Guy a queer
little imploring look, not indicative in the least of shame or
repentance, but such as might be put on by one of those truly excellent
people who do good by stealth and blush to find it known, when some of
their benevolent acts have come to light, and they wish to deprecate
praise.
Livingstone gazed piercingly at her for several instants without moving
a muscle of his face; suddenly its fixed and stern expression--you could
not say softened, but--broke up all at once like a sheet of ice
shivering.
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