of his reintroduction to the polite world was
a success which few young men of his years achieve. He produced a
sensation. Just as the rooms were thinning, Lady Glenalvon whispered to
Kenelm,--

"Come this way: there is one person I must reintroduce you to; thank me
for it hereafter."

Kenelm followed the marchioness, and found himself face to face with
Cecilia Travers. She was leaning on her father's arm, looking very
handsome, and her beauty was heightened by the blush which overspread
her cheeks as Kenelm Chillingly approached.

Travers greeted him with great cordiality; and Lady Glenalvon asking him
to escort her to the refreshment-room, Kenelm had no option but to offer
his arm to Cecilia.

Kenelm felt somewhat embarrassed. "Have you been long in town, Miss
Travers?"

"A little more than a week, but we only settled into our house
yesterday."

"Ah, indeed! were you then the young lady who--" He stopped short, and
his face grew gentler and graver in its expression.

"The young lady who--what?" asked Cecilia with a smile.

"Who has been staying with Lady Glenalvon?"

"Yes; did she tell you?"

"She did not mention your name, but praised that young lady so justly
that I ought to have guessed it."

Cecilia made some not very audible answer, and on entering the
refreshment-room other young men gathered round her, and Lady Glenalvon
and Kenelm remained silent in the midst of a general small-talk. When
Travers, after giving his address to Kenelm, and, of course, pressing
him to call, left the house with Cecilia, Kenelm said to Lady Glenalvon,
musingly, "So that is the young lady in whom I was to see my fate: you
knew that we had met before?"

"Yes, she told me when and where. Besides, it is not two years since you
wrote to me from her father's house. Do you forget?"

"Ah," said Kenelm, so abstractedly that he seemed to be dreaming, "no
man with his eyes open rushes on his fate: when he does so his sight is
gone. Love is blind. They say the blind are very happy, yet I never met
a blind man who would not recover his sight if he could."

CHAPTER IV.

Mr. CHILLINGLY MIVERS never gave a dinner at his own rooms. When he
did give a dinner it was at Greenwich or Richmond. But he gave
breakfast-parties pretty often, and they were considered pleasant.
He had handsome bachelor apartments in Grosvenor Street, daintily
furnished, with a prevalent air of exquisite neatness, a good library
stored with books of re