Lord Dudley de Vere, with my cousin
Lady Julia on his arm, came up. The easy nonchalance of his manner, the
tone of quiet indifference he assumed, were well known to me; but I
was in nowise prepared for the look of insufferable, patronising
impertinence he had now put on.

My cousin, more beautiful far than ever I had seen her, took off my
attention from him, however, and I turned with a feeling of half pride,
half wonder, to pay my respects to her. Dressed in the most perfect
taste of the fashion, her handsome features wore the assured and
tranquil expression which conscious beauty gives. And here let no
inexperienced observer rashly condemn the placid loveliness of the queen
of beauty, the sanctioned belle of fashionable life. It is, indeed,
very different from the artless loveliness of innocent girlhood; but its
claim is not less incontestable. The features, like the faculties, can
be cultivated; and when no unnatural effort suggests the expression, who
shall say that the mind habitually exercised in society of the highest
and most gifted circle will not impart a more elevated character to the
look than when the unobtrusive career of everyday life flows on calm and
unruffled, steeping the soul in a dreary monotony, and calling for no
effort save of the commonest kind.

Julia's was indeed splendid beauty. The lustrous brilliancy of her
dark-blue eyes was shaded by long, black lashes; the contour of her
cheeks was perfect; her full short lips were slightly, so slightly
curled, you knew not if it were no more smile than sarcasm; the low
tones of her voice were rich and musical, and her carriage and demeanour
possessed all the graceful elegance which is only met with in the
society of great cities. Her manner was most frank and cordial; she held
out her hand to me at once, and looked really glad to see me. After a
few brief words of recognition, she turned towards De Vere--

'I shall ask you to excuse me, my lord, this set. It is so long since I
have seen my cousin.'

He bowed negligently, muttered something carelessly about the next
waltz, and with a familiar nod to me, lounged away. O'Grady's caution
about this man's attentions to Julia at once came to my mind, and the
easy tone of his manner towards her alarmed me; but I had no time for
reflection, as she took my arm and sauntered down the room.

'And so, _mon cher_ cousin, you have been leading a very wild life of
it--fighting duels, riding steeplechases, breaki