She was thinking how gladly she would
have made this man master of her ample fortune; wondering whether he
would ever claim from her the allegiance she was so ready to give.
Mr. Pallinson did his best to engage his cousin's attention during the
rest of the evening. He brought her her tea-cup, and hovered about her
while she sipped the beverage with that graceful air of suppressed
tenderness which constant practice in the drawing-rooms of Maida-hill had
rendered almost natural to him; but, do what he would, he could not
distract Mrs. Branston's thoughts and looks from John Saltram. It was on
him that her eyes were fixed while the accomplished Theobald was giving
her a lively account of a concert at the Eyre Arms; and it was the
fascination of his presence which made her answer at random to her
cousin's questions about the last volume of the Laureate's, which she had
been lately reading. Even Mr. Pallinson, obtuse as he was apt to be when
called upon to comprehend any fact derogatory to his own self-esteem,
was fain to confess to himself that this evening's efforts were futile,
and that this dark-faced stranger was the favourite for those matrimonial
stakes he had entered himself to run for. He looked at Mr. Saltram with a
critical eye many times in the course of the evening, wondering what
possible merit any sensible woman could perceive in such a man.
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