esitatingly.

"I have seen him; I have mentioned it to him," said Lady Montfort
decidedly. "He makes difficulties; there must be none. He will consult
you. I came on at once that you might be prepared. No difficulty must be
admitted. His future depends on it."

"I live for his future," said Lady Roehampton.

"He will talk to you about money. These things always cost money. As a
general rule, nobody has money who ought to have it. I know dear Lord
Roehampton is very kind to you; but, all his life, he never had too much
money at his command; though why, I never could make out. And my lord
has always had too much money; but I do not much care to talk to him
about these affairs. The thing must be done. What is the use of a
diamond necklace if you cannot help a friend into parliament? But all I
want to know now is that you will throw no difficulties in his way. Help
him, too, if you can."

"I wish Endymion had married," replied Myra.

"Well; I do not see how that would help affairs," said Lady Montfort.
"Besides, I dislike married men. They are very uninteresting."

"I mean, I wish," said Lady Roehampton musingly, "that he had made a
great match."

"That is not very easy," said Lady Montfort, "and great matches
are generally failures. All the married heiresses I have known have
shipwrecked."

"And yet it is possible to marry an heiress and love her," said Myra.

"It is possible, but very improbable."

"I think one might easily love the person who has just left the room."

"Miss Neuchatel?"

"Adriana. Do not you agree with me?"

"Miss Neuchatel will never marry," said Lady Montfort, "unless she loses
her fortune."

"Well; do you know, I have sometimes thought that she liked Endymion?
I never could encourage such a feeling; and Endymion, I am sure, would
not. I wish, I almost wish," added Lady Roehampton, trying to speak
with playfulness, "that you would use your magic influence, dear Lady
Montfort, and bring it about. He would soon get into parliament then."

"I have tried to marry Miss Neuchatel once," said Lady Montfort, with a
mantling cheek, "and I am glad to say I did not succeed. My match-making
is over."

There was a dead silence; one of those still moments which almost seem
inconsistent with life, certainly with the presence of more than one
human being. Lady Roehampton seemed buried in deep thought. She was
quite abstracted, her eyes fixed, and fixed upon the ground. All the
history of her life p