"they like
to patronise, and they dote upon all oddities, from China monsters to
cracked poets. But I fancy, by a restless glance cast every now and then
around the room, that my beautiful cousin has in her something of the
coquette."

"There you are quite right, Lumley," returned Lord Saxingham, laughing;
"but I will not quarrel with her for breaking hearts and refusing
hands, if she do but grow steady at last, and settle into the Duchess
of------."

"Duchess of ------!" repeated Lumley, absently; "well, I will go and
present myself. I see she is growing tired of the signor. I will sound
her as to the ducal impressions, my dear lord."

"Do--I dare not," replied the father; "she is an excellent girl, but
heiresses are always contradictory. It was very foolish to deprive me
of all control over her fortune. Come and see me again soon, Lumley. I
suppose you are going abroad?"

"No, I shall settle in England; but of my prospects and plans more
hereafter."

With this, Lumley quietly glided away to Florence. There was something
in Ferrers that was remarkable from its very simplicity. His clear,
sharp features, with the short hair and high brow--the absolute
plainness of his dress, and the noiseless, easy, self-collected calm of
all his motions, made a strong contrast to the showy Italian, by whose
side he now stood. Florence looked up at him with some little surprise
at his intrusion.

"Ah, you don't recollect me!" said Lumley, with his pleasant laugh.
"Faithless Imogen, after all your vows of constancy! Behold your Alonzo!

'The worms they crept in and the worms they crept out.'

"Don't you remember how you trembled when I told you that true story, as
we

'Conversed as we sat on the green"?

"Oh!" cried Florence, "it is indeed you, my dear cousin--my dear Lumley!
What an age since we parted!"

"Don't talk of age--it is an ugly word to a man of my years. Pardon,
signor, if I disturb you."

And here Lumley, with a low bow, slid coolly into the place which
Cesarini, who had shyly risen, left vacant for him. Castruccio looked
disconcerted; but Florence had forgotten him in her delight at seeing
Lumley, and Cesarini moved discontentedly away, and seated himself at a
distance.

"And I come back," continued Lumley, "to find you a confirmed beauty and
a professional coquette--don't blush!"

"Do they, indeed, call me a coquette?"

"Oh, yes,--for once the world is just."

"Perhaps I do deserve the reproach