ord Saxingham was told that Maltravers
was a rising man, and he thought it well to be civil to rising men, of
whatever party; besides, his vanity was flattered by having men who are
talked of in his train. He was too busy and too great a personage to
think Maltravers could be other than sincere, when he declared himself,
in his notes, "very sorry," or "much concerned," to forego the honour of
dining with Lord Saxingham on the, &c., &c.; and therefore continued
his invitations, till Maltravers, from that fatality which undoubtedly
regulates and controls us, at last accepted the proffered distinction.

He arrived late--most of the guests were assembled; and, after
exchanging a few words with his host, Ernest fell back into the general
group, and found himself in the immediate neighbourhood of Lady Florence
Lascelles. This lady had never much pleased Maltravers, for he was not
fond of masculine or coquettish heroines, and Lady Florence seemed to
him to merit both epithets; therefore, though he had met her often since
the first day he had been introduced to her, he had usually contented
himself with a distant bow or a passing salutation. But now, as he
turned round and saw her, she was, for a miracle, sitting alone; and
in her most dazzling and noble countenance there was so evident an
appearance of ill health, that he was struck and touched by it. In fact,
beautiful as she was, both in face and form, there was something in the
eye and the bloom of Lady Florence, which a skilful physician would have
seen with prophetic pain. And, whenever occasional illness paled the
roses of the cheek, and sobered the play of the lips, even an ordinary
observer would have thought of the old commonplace proverb--"that the
brightest beauty has the briefest life." It was some sentiment of
this kind, perhaps, that now awakened the sympathy of Maltravers. He
addressed her with more marked courtesy than usual, and took a seat by
her side.

"You have been to the House, I suppose, Mr. Maltravers?" said Lady
Florence.

"Yes, for a short time; it is not one of our field nights--no division
was expected; and by this time, I dare say, the House has been counted
out."

"Do you like the life?"

"It has excitement," said Maltravers, evasively.

"And the excitement is of a noble character?"

"Scarcely so, I fear--it is so made up of mean and malignant
motives,--there is in it so much jealousy of our friends, so much
unfairness to our enemies;--su