She had remarked keenly his interview with Sir Bingo, and knowing by experience the manner in which her honoured lord was wont to retreat from a dispute in which he was unsuccessful, as well as his genius for getting into such perplexities, she had little doubt that he had sustained from the stranger some new indignity; whom, therefore, she regarded with a mixture of feeling, scarce knowing whether to be pleased with him for having given pain to him whom she hated, or angry with him for having affronted one in whose degradation her own was necessarily involved.

There might be other thoughts--on the whole, she regarded him with much though with mute attention.

He paid her but little in return, being almost entirely occupied in replying to the questions of the engrossing Lady Penelope Penfeather.
Receiving polite though rather evasive answers to her enquiries concerning his late avocations, her ladyship could only learn that Tyrrel had been travelling in several remote parts of Europe, and even of Asia.

Baffled, but not repulsed, the lady continued her courtesy, by pointing out to him, as a stranger, several individuals of the company to whom she proposed introducing him, as persons from whose society he might derive either profit or amusement.

In the midst of this sort of conversation, however, she suddenly stopped short.
"Will you forgive me, Mr.Tyrrel," she said, "if I say I have been watching your thoughts for some moments, and that I have detected you?
All the while that I have been talking of these good folks, and that you have been making such civil replies, that they might be with great propriety and utility inserted in the 'Familiar Dialogues, teaching foreigners how to express themselves in English upon ordinary occasions'-- your mind has been entirely fixed upon that empty chair, which hath remained there opposite betwixt our worthy president and Sir Bingo Binks." "I own, madam," he answered, "I was a little surprised at seeing such a distinguished seat unoccupied, while the table is rather crowded." "O, confess more, sir!--Confess that to a poet a seat unoccupied--the chair of Banquo--has more charms than if it were filled even as an alderman would fill it .-- What if 'the Dark Ladye'[I-14] should glide in and occupy it ?--would you have courage to stand the vision, Mr.
Tyrrel ?--I assure you the thing is not impossible." "_What_ is not impossible, Lady Penelope ?" said Tyrrel, somewhat surprised.
"Startled already ?--Nay, then, I despair of your enduring the awful interview." "What interview?
who is expected ?" said Tyrrel, unable with the utmost exertion to suppress some signs of curiosity, though he suspected the whole to be merely some mystification of her ladyship.
"How delighted I am," she said, "that I have found out where you are vulnerable!--Expected--did I say expected ?--no, not expected.
'She glides, like Night, from land to land, She hath strange power of speech.' -- But come, I have you at my mercy, and I will be generous and explain .-- We call--that is, among ourselves, you understand--Miss Clara Mowbray, the sister of that gentleman that sits next to Miss Parker, the Dark Ladye, and that seat is left for her .-- For she was expected--no, not expected--I forget again!--but it was thought _possible_ she might honour us to-day, when our feast was so full and piquant .-- Her brother is our Lord of the Manor--and so they pay her that sort of civility to regard her as a visitor--and neither Lady Binks nor I think of objecting--She is a singular young person, Clara Mowbray--she amuses me very much--I am always rather glad to see her." "She is not to come hither to-day," said Tyrrel; "am I so to understand your ladyship ?" "Why, it is past her time--even _her_ time," said Lady Penelope--"dinner was kept back half an hour, and our poor invalids were famishing, as you may see by the deeds they have done since .-- But Clara is an odd creature, and if she took it into her head to come hither at this moment, hither she would come--she is very whimsical .-- Many people think her handsome--but she looks so like something from another world, that she makes me always think of Mat Lewis's Spectre Lady." And she repeated with much cadence, "There is a thing--there is a thing, I fain would have from thee; I fain would have that gay gold ring, O warrior, give it me!" "And then you remember his answer: 'This ring Lord Brooke from his daughter took, And a solemn oath he swore, That that ladye my bride should be When this crusade was o'er.' You do figures as well as landscapes, I suppose, Mr.Tyrrel ?--You shall make a sketch for me--a slight thing--for sketches, I think, show the freedom of art better than finished pieces--I dote on the first coruscations of genius--flashing like lightning from the cloud!--You shall make a sketch for my boudoir--my dear sulky den at Air Castle, and Clara Mowbray shall sit for the Ghost Ladye." "That would be but a poor compliment to your ladyship's friend," replied Tyrrel.
"Friend?
We don't get quite that length, though I like Clara very well .-- Quite sentimental cast of face--I think I saw an antique in the Louvre very like her--( I was there in 1800)--quite an antique countenance--eyes something hollowed--care has dug caves for them, but they are caves of the most beautiful marble, arched with jet--a straight nose, and absolutely the Grecian mouth and chin--a profusion of long straight black hair, with the whitest skin you ever saw--as white as the whitest parchment--and not a shade of colour in her cheek--none whatever--If she would be naughty, and borrow a prudent touch of complexion, she might be called beautiful.