Being satisfied of Richard's seriousness, and concluding privily that he was only a dullard whom the honor of her notice had confused, she said: "Umph! Matzai and Mr.Pickwick! Yes; certainly!" Then Mrs.Hanway-Harley set herself to ask questions, the bald aggressiveness whereof gave the daughter a red brow.

Richard answered readily, as though glad of the chance, and did not notice the crimson that painted Dorothy's face.
The latter young lady was as much puzzled by their caller as was her mother, without accounting for his oddities on any argument of dullness.
Indeed, she could see how he played with them: that there flowed an undercurrent of irony in his replies.

Moreover, while by his manner he had pedestaled and prayed to her as to a goddess, when they were alone and before her mother came, Dorothy now observed that Richard carried himself in a manner easy and masterful, and as one who knows much in the presence of ones who know little.

This air of the ineffably invincible made Dorothy forget the adoration which had aforetime glowed in his eyes, and she longed to box his ears.
"Is Mr.Gwynn your relative ?" asked the cool, though somewhat careless, Mrs.Hanway-Harley.
"No, madam; no relative." There drifted about the corners of Richard's mouth the shadow of a smile.

"He is all English; I am all American." "I'm sure I'm sorry," remarked the lady musingly.