Nobody

"Oh! how good!" said Lois, giving a little delighted and gratefulpressure to the hand in which her own still lay.

"You agree to my plans, then?"

"I agree to – part. What is that?" – for a slight noise was heard in thehall. – "O Philip, get up! – get up! – there is somebody coming!"

Mr. Dillwyn rose now, being bidden on this wise, and stood confrontingthe doorway, in which presently appeared his sister, Mrs. Burrage. Hestood quiet and calm to meet her; while Lois, hidden by the back of thegreat easy-chair, had a moment to collect herself. He shielded her asmuch as he could. A swift review of the situation made him resolve forthe present to "play dark." He could not trust his sister, that if thetruth of the case were suddenly made known to her, she would not by herspeech, or manner, or by her silence maybe, do something that wouldhurt Lois. He would not risk it. Give her time, and she would fitherself to her circumstances gracefully enough, he knew; and Lois neednever be told what had been her sister-in-law's first view of them. Sohe stood, with an unconcerned face, watching Mrs. Burrage come down theroom. And she, it may be said, came slowly, watching him.

CHAPTER XLVIII

ANNOUNCEMENTS

I have never described Mr. Dillwyn; and if I try to do it now, I amaware that words will give to nobody else the image of him. He was nota beauty, like Tom Caruthers; some people declared him not handsome atall, yet they were in a minority. Certainly his features were notaccording to classical rule, and criticism might find something to sayto every one of them; if I except the shape and air of the face andhead, the set of the latter, and the rich hair; which, very dark incolour, massed itself thick and high on the top of the head, and clungin close thick locks at the sides. The head sat nobly upon theshoulders, and correspondent therewith was the frank and manlyexpression of the face. I think irregular features sometimes make abetter whole than regular ones. Philip's eyes were not remarkable, unless for their honest and spirited outlook; his nose was neitherRoman nor Grecian, and his mouth was rather large; however, it wassomewhat concealed by the long soft moustache, which he wore after thefashion of some Continentals (N. B., not like the French emperor),carefully dressed and with points turning up; and the mouth itself wasboth manly and pleasant. Altogether, the people who denied Mr. Dillwynthe praise of beauty, never questioned that he was very fine-looking.His sister was excessively proud of him, and, naturally thought thatnothing less than the best of everything – more especially ofwomankind – was good enough for him. She was thinking this now, as shecame down the room, and looking jealously to see signs of what shedreaded, an entanglement that would preclude for ever his having thebest. Do not let us judge her hardly. What sister is not critical ofher brother's choice of a wife? If, indeed, she be willing that heshould have a wife at all. Mrs. Burrage watched for signs, but sawnothing. Philip stood there, calmly smiling at her, not at allflustered by her appearance. Lois saw his coolness too, and envied it; feeling that as a man, and as a man of the world, he had greatly theadvantage of her. She was nervous, and felt flushed. However, there isa power of will in some women which can do a great deal, and Lois wasdetermined that Mr. Dillwyn should not be ashamed of her. By the timeit was needful for her to rise she did rise, and faced her visitor witha very quiet and perfectly composed manner. Only, if anything, it was atrifle too quiet; but her manner was other wise quite faultless.

"Philip! – " said Mrs. Burrage, advancing – "Good morning – Miss Lothrop.

Philip, what are you doing here?"

"I believe you asked me that question once on a former occasion. Then,I think, I had been making toast. Now, I have been telling Miss Lothropmy plans for the summer, since she was so good as to listen."

"Plans?" repeated Mrs. Burrage. "What plans?" She looked doubtfullyfrom one to the other of the faces before her. "Does he tell you hisplans, Miss Lothrop?"

"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Burrage?" said Lois. "I am always interestedwhen anybody speaks of Switzerland."

"Switzerland!" cried the lady, sinking into a chair, and her eyes goingto her brother again. "You are not talking of Switzerland for nextsummer?"

"Where can one be better in summer?"

"But you have been there ever so many times!"

"By which I know how good it will be to go again."

"I thought you would spend the summer with me!"

"Where?" he asked, with a smile.

"Philip, I wish you would dress your hair like other people."

"It defies dressing, sister," he said, passing his hand over the thickmass.

"No, no, I mean your moustache. When you smile, it gives you a demoniacexpression, which drives me out of all patience. Miss Lothrop, would henot look a great deal better if he would cut off those Hungariantwists, and wear his upper lip like a Christian?"

This was a trial! Lois gave one glance at the moustache in question, aglance compounded of mingled horror and amusement, and flushed allover. Philip saw the glance and commanded his features only by a strongexertion of will, remaining, however, to all seeming as impassive as ajudge.

"You don't think so?" said Mrs. Burrage. "Philip, why are you not atthat picture sale this minute, with me?"

"Why are you not there, let me ask, this minute without me?"

"Because I wanted you to tell me if I should buy in that Murillo."

"I can tell you as well here as there. What do you want to buy it for?"

"What a question! Why, they say it is a genuine Murillo, and no doubtabout it; and I have just one place on the wall in my seconddrawing-room, where something is wanting; there is one place not filledup, and it looks badly."

"And the Murillo is to fill up the vacant space?"

"Yes. If you say it is worth it."

"Worth what?"

"The money. Five hundred. But I dare say they would take four, andperhaps three. It is a real Murillo, they say. Everybody says."

"Jessie, I think it would be extravagance."

"Extravagance! Five hundred dollars for a Murillo! Why, everybody saysit is no price at all."

"Not for the Murillo; but for a wall panel, I think it is. What do yousay, Miss Lothrop, to panelling a room at five hundred dollars thepanel?"

"Miss Lothrop's experience in panels would hardly qualify her to answeryou," Mrs. Burrage said, with a polite covert sneer.

"Miss Lothrop has experience in some other things," Philip returnedimmoveably. But the appeal put Lois in great embarrassment.

"What is the picture?" she asked, as the best way out of it.

"It's a St. Sebastian," Mrs. Burrage answered shortly.

"Do you know the story?" asked Philip. "He was an officer in thehousehold of the Roman emperor, Diocletian; a Christian; and discoveredto be a Christian by his bold and faithful daring in the cause oftruth. Diocletian ordered him to be bound to a tree and shot to deathwith arrows, and that the inscription over his head should state thatthere was no fault found in him but only that he was a Christian. Thispicture my sister wants to buy, shows him stripped and bound to thetree, and the executioner's work going on. Arrows are piercing him invarious places; and the saint's face is raised to heaven with the lookupon it of struggling pain and triumphing faith together. You can seethat the struggle is sharp, and that only strength which is not his ownenables him to hold out; but you see that he will hold out, and themartyr's palm of victory is even already waving before him."

Lois's eyes eagerly looked into those of the speaker while he went on; then they fell silently. Mrs. Burrage grew impatient.

"You tell it with a certain goût," she said. "It's a horrid story!"

"O, it's a beautiful story!" said Lois, suddenly looking up.

"If you like horrors," said the lady, shrugging her shoulders. "But Ibelieve you are one of that kind yourself, are you not?"

"Liking horrors?" said Lois, in astonishment.

"No, no, of course! not that. But I mean, you are one of that saint'sspiritual relations. Are you not? You would rather be shot than liveeasy?"

Philip bit his lip; but Lois answered with the most delicioussimplicity, —

"If living easy implied living unfaithful, I hope I would rather beshot." Her eyes looked, as she spoke, straight and quietly into thoseof her visitor.

"And I hope I would," added Philip.

"You?" said his sister, turning sharp upon him. "Everybody knows youwould!"

"But everybody does not know yet that I am a fellow-servant of thatSebastian of long ago; and that to me now, faithful and unfaithful meanthe same that they meant to him. Not faithfulness to man, butfaithfulness to God – or unfaithfulness."