"Perhaps," she said, after a short pause, "we pass our lives more
happily without love than with it. And in our modern social system" (she
continued, thoughtfully, and with profound truth, though it is scarcely
the conclusion to which a woman often arrives) "I think we have pampered
Love to too great a preponderance over the other excitements of life.
As children, we are taught to dream of it; in youth, our books, our
conversation, our plays, are filled with it. We are trained to consider
it the essential of life; and yet, the moment we come to actual
experience, the moment we indulge this inculcated and stimulated
craving, nine times out of ten we find ourselves wretched and undone.
Ah, believe me, Mr. Maltravers, this is not a world in which we should
preach up too far the philosophy of Love!"

"And does Madame de Ventadour speak from experience?" asked Maltravers,
gazing earnestly upon the changing countenance of his companion.

"No; and I trust that I never may!" said Valerie, with great energy.

Ernest's lip curled slightly, for his pride was touched.

"I could give up many dreams of the future," said he, "to hear Madame de
Ventadour revoke that sentiment."

"We have outridden our companions, Mr. Maltravers," said Valerie,
coldly, and she reined in her horse. "Ah, Mr. Ferrers," she continued,
as Lumley and the handsome German baron now joined her, "you are too
gallant; I see you imply a delicate compliment to my horsemanship, when
you wish me to believe you cannot keep up with me: Mr. Maltravers is not
so polite."

"Nay," returned Ferrers, who rarely threw away a compliment without a
satisfactory return, "Nay, you and Maltravers appeared lost among the
old Romans; and our friend the baron took that opportunity to tell me of
all the ladies who adored him."

"Ah, Monsieur Ferrare, _que vous etes malin_!" said Schomberg, looking
very much confused.

"_Malin_! no; I spoke from no envy: _I_ never was adored, thank Heaven!
What a bore it must be!"

"I congratulate you on the sympathy between yourself and Ferrers,"
whispered Maltravers to Valerie.

Valerie laughed; but during the rest of the excursion she remained
thoughtful and absent, and for some days their rides were discontinued.
Madame de Ventadour was not well.

CHAPTER III.

"O Love, forsake me not;
Mine were a lone dark lot
Bereft of thee."
HEMANS, _Genius singing to Love_.

I FEAR that as yet Ernest Maltravers had gained little fr