e made an
unconscious conquest of a poet's heart; and if so, he purchases the
enjoyment of the passing hour at a fearful price."

"Nay," said Lady Florence, indifferently, "he is one of those to
whom the fancy supplies the place of the heart. And if I give him an
inspiration, it will be an equal luxury to him whether his lyre be
strung to hope or disappointment. The sweetness of his verses will
compensate to him for any bitterness in actual life."

"There are two kinds of love," answered Maltravers,--"love and
self-love; the wounds of the last are often most incurable in those
who appear least vulnerable to the first. Ah, Lady Florence, were I
privileged to play the monitor, I would venture on one warning, however
much it might offend you."

"And that is--"

"To forbear coquetry."

Maltravers smiled as he spoke, but it was gravely--and at the same time
he moved gently away. But Lady Florence laid her hand on his arm.

"Mr. Maltravers," said she, very softly, and with a kind of faltering in
her tone, "am I wrong to say that I am anxious for your good opinion?
Do not judge me harshly. I am soured, discontented, unhappy. I have no
sympathy with the world. These men whom I see around me--what are
they? the mass of them unfeeling and silken egotists--ill-judging,
ill-educated, well-dressed: the few who are called distinguished--how
selfish in their ambition, how passionless in their pursuits! Am I to
be blamed if I sometimes exert a power over such as these, which rather
proves my scorn of them than my own vanity?"

"I have no right to argue with you."

"Yes, argue with me, convince me, guide me--Heaven knows that, impetuous
and haughty as I am, I need a guide,"--and Lady Florence's eyes swam
with tears. Ernest's prejudices against her were greatly shaken: he
was even somewhat dazzled by her beauty, and touched by her unexpected
gentleness; but still, his heart was not assailed, and he replied almost
coldly, after a short pause:

"Dear Lady Florence, look round the world--who so much to be envied
as yourself? What sources of happiness and pride are open to you! Why,
then, make to yourself causes of discontent?--why be scornful of those
who cross not your path? Why not look with charity upon God's less
endowed children, beneath you as they may seem? What consolation have
you in hurting the hearts or the vanities of others? Do you raise
yourself even in your own estimation? You affect to be above your
sex--yet what