character do you despise more in women than that which you
assume? Semiramis should not be a coquette. There now, I have offended
you--I confess I am very rude."

"I am not offended," said Florence, almost struggling with her tears;
and she added inly, "Ah, I am too happy!"--There are some lips from
which even the proudest women love to hear the censure which appears to
disprove indifference.

It was at this time that Lumley Ferrers, flushed with the success of his
schemes and projects, entered the room; and his quick eye fell upon
that corner, in which he detected what appeared to him a very alarming
flirtation between his rich cousin and Ernest Maltravers. He advanced to
the spot, and, with his customary frankness, extended a hand to each.

"Ah, my dear and fair cousin, give me your congratulations, and ask
me for my first frank, to be bound up in a collection of autographs by
distinguished senators--it will sell high one of these days. Your most
obedient, Mr. Maltravers;--how we shall laugh in our sleeves at the
humbug of politics, when you and I, the best friends in the world, sit
_vis-a-vis_ on opposite benches. But why, Lady Florence, have you never
introduced me to your pet Italian? _Allons_! I am his match in Alfieri,
whom, of course, he swears by, and whose verses, by the way, seem cut
out of box-wood--the hardest material for turning off that sort of
machinery that invention ever hit on."

Thus saying, Ferrers contrived, as he thought, very cleverly, to divide
a pair that he much feared were justly formed to meet by nature--and, to
his great joy, Maltravers shortly afterwards withdrew.

Ferrers, with the happy ease that belonged to his complacent, though
plotting character, soon made Cesarini at home with him; and two or
three slighting expressions which the former dropped with respect to
Maltravers, coupled with some outrageous compliments to the Italian,
completely won the heart of the poet. The brilliant Florence was more
silent and subdued than usual; and her voice was softer, though graver,
when she replied to Castruccio's eloquent appeals. Castruccio was one of
those men who _talk fine_. By degrees, Lumley lapsed into silence, and
listened to what took place between Lady Florence and the Italian,
while appearing to be deep in "The Views of the Rhine," which lay on the
table.

"Ah," said the latter, in his soft native tongue, "could you know how
I watch every shade of that countenance which makes m