Again he waited--waited in silence, absolutely not daring to speak, kept mute by something in Shirley's face--a very awful something--inscrutable to him as the writing on the wall to Belshazzar. He was moved more than once to call Daniel, in the person of Louis Moore, and to ask an interpretation; but his dignity forbade the familiarity. Daniel himself, perhaps, had his own private difficulties connected with that baffling bit of translation; he looked like a student for whom grammars are blank and dictionaries dumb.
* * * * *
Mr. Sympson had been out, to while away an anxious hour in the society of his friends at De Walden Hall. He returned a little sooner than was expected. His family and Miss Keeldar were assembled in the oak parlour. Addressing the latter, he requested her to step with him into another room. He wished to have with her a "_strictly_ private interview."
She rose, asking no questions and professing no surprise.

Again he waited, not daring to speak, kept mute by something in Shirley's face - a very awful and inscrutable something. He thought of calling Louis Moore to ask him for an interpretation of that look; but his dignity forbade it. Moore himself, perhaps, had his own private difficulties connected with that baffling bit of translation; he looked like a student for whom grammars are blank and dictionaries dumb.
Mr. Sympson went to visit the Wynnes. He returned sooner than expected, and requested Miss Keeldar's presence for a "strictly private interview."
She rose, showing no surprise