She had been one of the beauties of her day, and even now, in the sixth year of her widowhood, was accounted a remarkably handsome woman.

Mr.Foley, her brother, was also tall, but gaunt and thin, with a pronounced stoop.
His grey imperial gave him an almost foreign appearance.

He had the forehead of a philosopher but the mouth of a humourist.

His eyes, shrewd and penetrating--he wore no glasses although he was nearly sixty years of age--were perhaps his best feature.
"Tell me, my dear Stephen," she asked, as the tide of incoming guests finally ceased and they found themselves at liberty, "why are you looking so disturbed?
It seems to me that every one has arrived who ought to come, and judging by the noise they are making, every one is thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Why are people so noisy nowadays, I wonder ?" Mr.Foley smiled.
"What an observant person you are! To tell you the truth, there was just one guest whom I was particularly anxious to see here to-night.