But a statue would not talk like
that, and, above all, would not have eyes of so rare a colour. He
had never been at Mrs. Almond's before; he felt very much like a
stranger; and it was very kind of Catherine to take pity on him. He
was Arthur Townsend's cousin--not very near; several times removed--
and Arthur had brought him to present him to the family. In fact, he
was a great stranger in New York. It was his native place; but he
had not been there for many years. He had been knocking about the
world, and living in far-away lands; he had only come back a month or
two before. New York was very pleasant, only he felt lonely.
"You see, people forget you," he said, smiling at Catherine with his
delightful gaze, while he leaned forward obliquely, turning towards
her, with his elbows on his knees.
It seemed to Catherine that no one who had once seen him would ever
forget him; but though she made this reflexion she kept it to
herself, almost as you would keep something precious.
They sat there for some time. He was very amusing. He asked her
about the people that were near them; he tried to guess who some of
them were, and he made the most laughable mistakes. He criticised
them very freely, in a positive, off-hand way. Catherine had never
heard any one--especially any young man--talk just like that. It was
the way a young man might talk in a novel; or better still, in a
play, on the stage, close before the footlights, looking at the
audience, and with every one looking at him, so that you wondered at
his presence of mind.
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