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 “No; I am not acquainted with either the name or the lady,” Leonie replied, struck with a strange antipathy to the bold eyes that seemed to be mastering every detail in the room, herself included. Indeed, Mrs. Talmage Eglinton stared so markedly both at Leonie and her mother that Mrs. Sadgrove thought they must have met, and promptly introduced them as American friends staying in the house. The introduction was not a success, for the Shermans knew everyone worth knowing in American society, and the fact that they had never so much as heard of Mrs. Talmage Eglinton argued her outside the pale.

The elegant vision received her snubbing with cool unconcern, and after a few generalities turned again to her hostess and engaged in the trifling chatter of a “duty” call, making one or two unsuccessful attempts to include Sybil, to whom she had not been introduced, in the conversation.

“That woman is a brute,” Sybil said to Leonie under her breath. “I’ll tell you about her when she’s gone.”

The door opened, and there entered an iron-gray man of sixty, whose coming might almost