age, when even the assassin is
a sentimentalist, there is no virtue greater in my eyes than
intellectual clarity. Suffer me then to ask you to retire; for by the
signal of that bell, I perceive my old friend, your mother, to be close
at hand. With her I promise you to do my utmost."

And as Mrs. Desborough returned to the Divan, the prince, opening a door
upon the other side, admitted Mrs. Luxmore.

"Madam, and my very good friend," said he, "is my face so much changed
that you no longer recognise Prince Florizel in Mr. Godall?"

"To be sure!" she cried, looking at him through her glasses. "I have
always regarded your highness as a perfect man; and in your altered
circumstances, of which I have already heard with deep regret, I will
beg you to consider my respect increased instead of lessened."

"I have found it so," returned the prince, "with every class of my
acquaintance. But, madam, I pray you to be seated. My business is of a
delicate order, and regards your daughter."

"In that case," said Mrs. Luxmore, "you may save yourself the trouble of
speaking, for I have fully made up my mind to have nothing to do with
her. I will not hear one word in her defence; but as I value nothing so
particularly as the virtue of justice, I think it my duty to explain to
you the grounds of my complaint. She deserted me, her natural protector;
for years she has consorted with the most disreputable persons; and, to
fill the cup of her offence, she has recently married. I refuse to see
her, or the being to whom she has linked herself. One hundred and twenty
pounds a year, I have always offered her: I offer it again. It is what I
had myself when I was her age."

"Very well, madam," said the prince; "and be that so! But to touch upon
another matter: what was the income of the Reverend Bernard Fanshawe?"

"My father?" asked the spirited old lady. "I believe he had seven
hundred pounds in the year."

"You were one, I think, of several?" pursued the prince.

"Of four," was the reply. "We were four daughters; and, painful as the
admission is to make, a more detestable family could scarce be found in
England."

"Dear me!" said the prince. "And you, madam, have an income of eight
thousand?"

"Not more than five," returned the old lady; "but where on earth are you
conducting me?"

"To an allowance of one thousand pounds a year," replied Florizel,
smiling. "For I must not suffer you to take your father for a rule. He
was poor, yo