In truth, Harvey did not quite like Mrs.Abbott.Her age was about seven and twenty.

She came of poor folk, and had been a high-school teacher; very clever and successful, it was said, and Harvey could believe it.

Her features were regular, and did not lack sweetness; yet, unless an observer were mistaken, the last year or two had emphasised a certain air of conscious superiority, perchance originating in the schoolroom.

She had had one child; it struggled through a few months of sickly life, and died of convulsions during its mother's absence at a garden-party.

To all appearances, her grief at the loss betokened tenderest feeling.
When, in half a year's time, she again came forth into the world, a change was noted; her character seemed to have developed a new energy, she exhibited wider interests, and stepped from the background to become a leader in the little circle of her acquaintances.
'Have you read this ?' asked his hostess abruptly, holding up to him a French volume, Ribot's _L'Heredite Psychologique_.
'No.