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Perhaps the only one not altogether pleased was
Aunt Grace. By habit a close reader of all who came within range of
her observation, she occupied quite as much time in scanning the
face of Mr. Lyon, and noting each varying expression of eyes, lips,
and voice, as in listening to his entertaining description of things
heard and seen.
"I don't just like him." Thus she soliloquized after she had retired
to her own room.' "He's deep--any one can see that--deep as the sea.
And he has a way of turning his eyes without turning his head that
don't please me exactly. Edward is wonderfully taken with him; but
he never looks very far below the surface. And Fanny--why the girl
seemed perfectly fascinated!"
And Aunt Grace shook her head ominously, as she added--
"He's handsome enough; but beauty's only skin-deep, and he may be as
black as Lucifer inside."
A greater part of the next day Mr. Markland and Mr. Lyon spent
alone, either in the library or seated in some one of the many shady
arbours and cool retreats scattered invitingly over the pleasant
estate.


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