24/38 She was not less than ladylike in self-possession, but Mr.Wyvern's towering sableness clearly awed her a little. For an instant her eyes drooped, but at once she raised them and met the severe gaze with unflinching orbs. Releasing her hand, Mr.Wyvern performed a singular little ceremony: he laid his right palm very gently on her nutbrown hair, and his lips moved. At the same time he all but smiled. 'Alfred says he looks ill.' 'Mother,' interposed the young man, 'pray be accurate. |