XXIII

"Hullo,"saidthePrince,whospokeadmirableEnglish. Priscillacouldonlystare. Hisinstinctwastorepeattheexclamationwhichhefeltrepresentedhisfeelingsveryexactly,forherappearance—clothes,expression,everything—astonishedhim,buthedoubtedwhetheritwouldwellbearrepeating."Isthiswhereyouarestaying?"heinquiredinstead. "Yes,"saidPriscilla. "MayIcomein?" "Yes,"saidPriscilla. Hefollowedherintoherparlour.Helookedathercriticallyasshewalkedslowlybeforehim,fromheadtofoothelookedathercriticallyateveryinchoftheshabbysergegown,atthelittleheadwithitsbadlyarrangedhair,atthelittleheelthatcaughtinanunmendedbitofbraid,atthelittleshoewithitsbowoffrayedribbon,andhesmiledbroadlybehindhismoustache.Butwhensheturnedroundhewasperfectlysolemn. "Isuppose,"saidthePrince,puttinghishandsinhispocketsandgazingabouttheroomwithanappearanceofcheerfulinterest,"thisiswhatonecallsasnuglittleplace." Priscillastoodsilent.Shefeltasthoughshehadbeenshakenabruptlyoutofsleep.Herfaceevennowafterthesoul-rendingtimeshehadbeenhaving,inspiteoftheshadowsbeneaththeeyes,thedroopatthecornersofthemouth,inspite,too,itmustbesaidoftheflagrantlycottagefashioninwhichAnnalisehaddoneherhair,seemedtothePrincesoextremelybeautiful,soabsolutelythefaceofhisdearest,bestdesires,solimpid,apartfromallgraceofcolouringandhappycircumstanceoffeature,withthelightofasweetandnoblenature,somanifestlytheoutwardexpressionofanindwellinglovelysoul,thathiseyes,afteroneglanceroundtheroom,fixedthemselvesuponitandneverwereabletoleaveitagain. Foraminuteortwoshestoodsilent,tryingtocollectherthoughts,tryingtoshakeoffthefeelingthatshewasbeingcalledbacktolifeoutofadream.Ithadnotbeenadream,shekepttellingherself—badthoughitwasithadnotbeenadreambuttherealityandthismandroppedsuddenlyintothemiddleofitfromanotherworld,hewasthedream,partofthedreamshehadrebelledagainstandrunawayfromafortnightbefore. Thenshelookedathim,andsheknewshewasputtingoffhersoulwithnonsense.NeverwasanybodylesslikeadreamthanthePrinceneverwasanybodymoresquarely,morecertainlyreal.Andhewasofherownkind,ofherownworld.Heandshewereequals.Theycouldtalktogetherplainly,baldly,atalkungarnishedandunretardedbydeferencesontheonesideandontheotherakindnessapttobecomeexcessiveinitsanxietynottoappeartocondescend.Thefeelingthatoncemoreafterwhatseemedaneternityshewaswithanequalwasofasingularrefreshment.Duringthosefewmomentsinwhichtheystoodsilent,facingeachother,inspiteofhereffortstokeepitout,inspiteofreallyconscientiousefforts,agreatcalmcameinandspreadoverherspirit.Yetshehadnoreasontofeelcalmshethought,struggling.Wastherenotrathercauseforaninfinityofshame?Whathadhecomefor?Heofallpeople.Thescandalouslyjilted,theaffronted,therunawayfrom.WasitbecauseshehadbeenlookingsolongatFritzingthatthismanseemedsonicelygroomed?OratTussie,thatheseemedsowellputtogether?OratRobin,thatheseemedsomodest?Wasitbecausepeople'seyes—Mrs.Morrison's,LadyShuttleworth's—hadbeensoangrylatelywhenevertheyrestedonherthathisseemedsoverykind?Noshedidrememberthinkingthemthat,evenbeingstruckbythem,whenshesawhimfirstinKunitz.Adullredcreptintoherfacewhensherememberedthatdayandwhatfollowed."Itisn'tverysnug,"shesai