Polton would give him some dinner that evening. Trix and
Newhaven happened to enter by the door at the same moment, and
Jack darted up to them, and shook hands with the greatest
effusion. He had evidently buried all unkindness--and with it,
we hoped, his mistaken folly. However that might be, he made no
effort to engross Trix, but took his seat most docilely by his
hostess--and she, of course, introduced him to Mrs. Wentworth.
His behavior was, in fact, so exemplary that even Lady
Queenborough relaxed her severity, and condescended to cross-
examine him on the morals and manners of the old women of the
parish. "Oh, the vicar looks after them," said Jack; and he
turned to Mrs. Wentworth again.
There can be no doubt that Mrs. Wentworth had a remarkable power
of sympathy. I took her in to dinner, and she was deep in the
subject of my "noble and inspiring art" before the soup was off
the table. Indeed, I'm sure that my life's ambitions would have
been an open book to her by the time that the joint arrived, had
not Jack Ives, who was sitting on the lady's other side, cut into
the conversation just as Mrs. Wentworth was comparing my early
struggles with those of Mr. Carlyle. After this intervention of
Jack's I had not a chance. I ate my dinner without the sauce of
sympathy, substituting for it a certain amusement which I
derived from studying the face of Miss Trix Queenborough, who was
placed on the opposite side of the table.
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