The party grouped themselves round the tea-tables.

Mrs.Burgoyne laid a kind hand on Lucy Foster's arm, and introduced one or two of the new-comers.
Then, while Miss Manisty, a little apart, lent her ear to the soft chat of the ambassador, who sat beside her, supporting a pair of old and very white hands upon a gold-headed stick, Mrs.Burgoyne busied herself with Mr.
Bellasis and his tea.

For he was anxious to catch a train, and had but a short time to spare.
He was a tall stiffly built man, with a heavy white face, and a shock of black hair combed into a high and bird-like crest.

As to Mrs.Burgoyne's attentions, he received them with a somewhat pinched but still smiling dignity.

Manisty, meanwhile, a few feet away, was fidgetting on his chair, in one of his most unmanageable moods.