e went
on to describe the old place with something of a well-born country
gentleman's not displeasing pride; and Florence listened, and they
planned, and altered, and added, and improved, and laid out a map for
the future. From that topic they turned to another, equally interesting
to Florence. The work in which Maltravers had been engaged was
completed, was in the hands of the printer, and Florence amused herself
with conjectures as to the criticisms it would provoke. She was certain
that all that had most pleased her would be _caviare_ to the multitude.
She never would believe that any one could understand Maltravers but
herself. Thus time flew on till they passed that part of the road in
which had occurred Ernest's adventure with Mrs. Templeton's daughter.
Maltravers paused abruptly in the midst of his glowing periods, as
the spot awakened its associations and reminiscences, and looked
round anxiously and inquiringly. But the fair apparition was not again
visible; and whatever impression the place produced, it gradually died
away as they entered the suburbs of the great metropolis. Two other
gentlemen and a young lady of thirty-three (I had almost forgotten
them) were of the party, but they had the tact to linger a little behind
during the greater part of the road, and the young lady, who was a wit
and a flirt, found gossip and sentiment for both the cavaliers.

"Will you come to us this evening?" asked Florence, timidly.

"I fear I shall not be able. I have several matters to arrange before
I leave town for Burleigh, which I must do next week. Three months,
dearest Florence, will scarcely suffice to make Burleigh put on its best
looks to greet its new mistress; and I have already appointed the great
modern magicians of draperies and ormolu to consult how we may make
Aladdin's palace fit for the reception of the new princess. Lawyers,
too!--in short, I expect to be fully occupied. But to-morrow, at three,
I shall be with you, and we can ride out, if the day be fine."

"Surely," said Florence, "yonder is Signor Cesarini--how haggard and
altered he appears!"

Maltravers, turning his eyes towards the spot to which Florence pointed,
saw Cesarini emerging from a lane, with a porter behind him carrying
some books and a trunk. The Italian, who was talking and gesticulating
as to himself, did not perceive them.

"Poor Castruccio! he seems leaving his lodging," thought Maltravers. "By
this time I fear he will have spent