She could hardly have told you the source of her satisfaction; it came from something in the way the Baroness spoke, and it was not diminished--it was rather deepened, oddly enough--by the young girl's disbelief.

Mr.Wentworth was silent; and then he asked, formally, "Won't you come into the house ?" "These are not all; you have some other children," said the Baroness.
"I have a son," Mr.Wentworth answered.
"And why does n't he come to meet me ?" Eugenia cried.

"I am afraid he is not so charming as his sisters." "I don't know; I will see about it," the old man declared.
"He is rather afraid of ladies," Charlotte said, softly.
"He is very handsome," said Gertrude, as loud as she could.
"We will go in and find him.

We will draw him out of his cachette." And the Baroness took Mr.Wentworth's arm, who was not aware that he had offered it to her, and who, as they walked toward the house, wondered whether he ought to have offered it and whether it was proper for her to take it if it had not been offered.

"I want to know you well," said the Baroness, interrupting these meditations, "and I want you to know me." "It seems natural that we should know each other," Mr.Wentworth rejoined.