tes so great a change in women; and, where it is strongly
and intensely felt, moulds even those of the most obstinate character
into compliance or similitude with the sentiments or habits of its
object.

The stately self-control of Maltravers was, he conceived, precisely that
quality that gives to men an unconscious command over the very thoughts
of the woman whose affection they win: while, on the other hand, he
hoped that the fancy and enthusiasm of Florence would tend to render
sharper and more practical an ambition, which seemed to the sober man
of the world too apt to refine upon the means, and to _cui bono_
the objects of worldly distinction. Besides, Cleveland was one who
thoroughly appreciated the advantages of wealth and station; and the
rank and the dower of Florence were such as would force Maltravers into
a position in social life, which could not fail to make new exactions
upon talents which Cleveland fancied were precisely those adapted rather
to command than to serve. In Ferrers he recognised a man to _get_ into
power--in Maltravers one by whom power, if ever attained, would be
wielded with dignity, and exerted for great uses. Something, therefore,
higher than mere covetousness for the vulgar interests of Maltravers
made Cleveland desire to secure to him the heart and hand of the great
heiress; and he fancied that, whatever might be the obstacle, it would
not be in the will of Lady Florence herself. He prudently resolved,
however, to leave matters to their natural course. He hinted nothing
to one party or the other. No place for falling in love like a large
country house, and no time for it, amongst the indolent well-born, like
the close of a London season, when, jaded by small cares, and sickened
of hollow intimacies, even the coldest may well yearn for the tones of
affection--the excitement of an honest emotion.

Somehow or other it happened that Florence and Ernest, after the first
day or two, were constantly thrown together. She rode on horseback, and
Maltravers was by her side--they made excursions on the river, and they
sat on the same bench in the gliding pleasure-boat. In the evenings, the
younger guests, with the assistance of the neighbouring families, often
got up a dance in a temporary pavilion built out of the dining-room.
Ernest never danced. Florence did at first. But once, as she was
conversing with Maltravers, when a gay guardsman came to claim her
promised hand in the waltz, she seemed