then he was
gone. About a week afterward M. Grascour appeared upon the scene with
precisely the same intention. He, too, retained in his memory a most
vivid recollection of the young lady and her charms. He had heard that
Captain Scarborough had inherited Tretton, and had been informed that it
was not probable that Miss Florence Mountjoy would marry her cousin. He
was somewhat confused in his ideas, and thought, that were he now to
re-appear on the scene there might still be a chance for him. There was
no lover more unlike Mr. Anderson than M. Grascour. Not even for
Florence Mountjoy, not even to own her, would he go to Kamtchatka; and
were he not to see her he would simply go back to Brussels. And yet he
loved her as well as he knew how to love any one, and, would she have
become his wife, would have treated her admirably. He had looked at it
all round, and could see no reason why he should not marry her. Like a
persevering man, he persevered; but as he did so, no glimmering of an
idea of Kamtchatka disturbed him.

But from this farther trouble Mrs. Mountjoy was able to save her
daughter. M. Grascour made his way into Mrs. Mountjoy's presence, and
there declared his purpose. He had been sent over on some question
connected with the literature of commerce, and had ventured to take the
opportunity of coming down to Cheltenham. He hoped that the truth of his
affection would be evinced by the journey. Mrs. Mountjoy had observed,
while he was making his little speech, how extremely well brushed was
his hat. She had observed, also, that poor Mr. Anderson's hat was in
such a condition as almost to make her try to smooth it down for him.
"If you make objection to my hat, you should brush it yourself," she had
heard Harry say to Florence, and Florence had taken the hat, and had
brushed it with fond, lingering touches.

"M. Grascour, I can assure you that she is really engaged," Mrs.
Mountjoy had said. M. Grascour bowed and sighed. "She is to be married
this day week."

"Indeed!"

"To Mr. Harry Annesley."

"Oh-h-h! I remember the gentleman's name. I had thought--"

"Well, yes; there were objections, but they have luckily disappeared."
Though Mrs. Mountjoy was only as yet happy in a melancholy manner,
rejoicing with but bated joy at her girl's joys, she was too loyal to
say a word now against Harry Annesley.

"I should not have troubled you, but--"

"I am sure of that, M. Grascour; and we are both of us grateful to you