He wandered away toward the extremity of the grounds, troubled by vague suspicions; hurt at Adela's cold reception of him. Entering a shrubbery, which seemed intended to screen the grounds, at this point, from a lane outside, he suddenly discovered a pretty little summer-house among the trees. A stout gentleman, of mature years, was seated alone in this retreat. He looked up with a frown. Cosway apologized for disturbing him, and entered into conversation as an act of politeness.
"A brilliant assembly to-day, sir."
The stout gentleman replied by an inarticulate sound--something between a grunt and a cough.
"And a splendid house and grounds," Cosway continued.
The stout gentleman repeated the inarticulate sound.
Cosway began to feel amused. Was this curious old man deaf and dumb?
"Excuse my entering into conversation," he persisted. "I feel like a stranger here. There are so many people whom I don't know."The stout gentleman suddenly burst into speech. Cosway had touched a sympathetic fiber at last.
"There are a good many people here whom _I_ don't know," he said, gruffly. "You are one of them. What's your name?""My name is Cosway, sir. What's yours?"