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His own knowledge of the world would
tell him that an act of gross rudeness, committed by a well-bred man,
would inevitably excite suspicion of some unworthy motive--and might,
perhaps, connect that motive with her unexpected appearance at the
house. Romayne opened the door, and they entered the room together.
"Mr. Winterfield, let me introduce you to Mrs. Romayne." They bowed
to each other; they spoke the conventional words proper to the
occasion--but the effort that it cost them showed itself. Romayne
perceived an unusual formality in his wife's manner, and a strange
disappearance of Winterfield's easy grace of address. Was he one of the
few men, in these days, who are shy in the presence of women? And was
the change in Stella attributable, perhaps, to the state of her health?
The explanation might, in either case, be the right one. He tried to set
them at their ease.
"Mr. Winterfield is so pleased with the pictures, that he means to come
and see them again," he said to his wife. "And one of his favorites
happens to be your favorite, too.


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