e was broken up, and Lord Lilburne,
still reclining on his sofa, lazily introduced his brother-in-law to
such of the guests as were strangers to him--Vaudemont among the rest.
Mr. Beaufort had never seen Philip Morton more than three times; once
at Fernside, and the other times by an imperfect light, and when his
features were convulsed by passion, and his form disfigured by his
dress. Certainly, therefore, had Robert Beaufort even possessed that
faculty of memory which is supposed to belong peculiarly to kings and
princes, and which recalls every face once seen, it might have tasked
the gift to the utmost to have detected, in the bronzed and decorated
foreigner to whom he was now presented, the features of the wild and
long-lost boy. But still some dim and uneasy presentiment, or some
struggling and painful effort of recollection, was in his mind, as he
spoke to Vaudemont, and listened to the cold calm tone of his reply.

"Who do you say that Frenchman is?" he whispered to his brother-in-law,
as Vaudemont turned away.

"Oh! a cleverish sort of adventurer--a gentleman; he plays.--He has
seen a good deal of the world--he rather amuses me--different from other
people. I think of asking him to join our circle at Beaufort Court."

Mr. Beaufort coughed huskily, but not seeing any reasonable objection
to the proposal, and afraid of rousing the sleeping hyaena of Lord
Lilburne's sarcasm, he merely said:--

"Any one you like to invite:" and looking round for some one on whom to
vent his displeasure, perceived Camilla still listening to Liancourt.
He stalked up to her, and as Liancourt, seeing her rise, rose also and
moved away, he said peevishly, "You will never learn to conduct yourself
properly; you are to be left here to nurse and comfort your uncle, and
not to listen to the gibberish of every French adventurer. Well, Heaven
be praised, I have a son--girls are a great plague!"

"So they are, Mr. Beaufort," sighed his wife, who had just joined
him, and who was jealous of the preference Lilburne had given to her
daughter.

"And so selfish," added Mrs. Beaufort; "they only care for their own
amusements, and never mind how uncomfortable their parents are for want
of them."

"Oh! dear mamma, don't say so--let me go home with you--I'll speak to my
uncle!"

"Nonsense, child! Come along, Mr. Beaufort;" and the affectionate
parents went out arm in arm. They did not perceive that Vaudemont had
been standing close behind them