Білі люди

           Icouldscarcelylookaway,thoughIknewImustnotbeguiltyofstaring.Afootmanwaspresentingadishatmyside.Itooksomethingfromitwithoutknowingwhatitwas.LordArmourbegantotalkkindly.Hewassayingbeautiful,admiringthingsofMr.MacNairnandhiswork.Ilistenedgratefully,andsaidafewwordsmyselfnowandthen.Iwasonlytoogladtobetoldofthegreatpeopleandthesmalloneswhoweremovedandupliftedbyhisthoughts.

           “Youadmirehimverymuch,Icansee,”theamiableelderlyvoicesaid.

           Icouldnothelpturningandlookingup.“Itisasifagreat,greatgeniuswereone’sfriend—asifhetalkedandonelistened,”Isaid.“Heislikeasplendiddreamwhichhascometrue.”

           OldLordArmourlookedatmequitethoughtfully,asifhesawsomethingnewinme.

           “Thatisagoodwayofputtingit,MissMuircarrie,”heanswered.“MacNairnwouldlikethat.Youmusttellhimaboutityourself.”

           Ididnotmeantoglancethroughtheflowersagain,butIdiditinvoluntarily.AndImettheothereyes—thewonderful,interestedonesjustasIhadmetthembefore.Italmostseemedasifhehadbeenwatchingme.Itmightbe,Ithought,becauseheonlyvaguelyrememberedseeingmebeforeandwastryingtorecallwherewehadmet.

           Whenmyguardianbroughthismengueststothedrawing-roomafterdinner,Iwaslookingoversomeoldprintsataquiet,smalltable.Therewereafewminutesofsmilingtalk,andthenSirIancrossedtheroomtowardme,bringingsomeonewithhim.ItwasHectorMacNairnhebrought.

           “Mr.