she seems in danger--yes!" replied the Patrician; and the
Sybarite seemed to rise into the Athenian.

Then he asked with eagerness about his old friend Audley; and, his
curiosity satisfied there, he inquired the last literary news. He had
heard much of a book lately published. He named the one ascribed by Parson
Dale to Professor Moss: none of his listeners had read it.

Harley pished at this, and accused them all of indolence and stupidity, in
his own quaint, metaphorical style. Then he said--"And town gossip?"

"We never hear it," said Lady Lansmere.

"There is a new plow much talked of at Boodle's," said Lord Lansmere.

"God speed it. But is not there a new man much talked of at White's?"

"I don't belong to White's."

"Nevertheless, you may have heard of him--a foreigner, a Count di
Peschiera."

"Yes," said Lord Lansmere; "he was pointed out to me in the Park--a
handsome man for a foreigner; wears his hair properly cut; looks
gentlemanlike and English."

"Ah, ah! He is here then!" And Harley rubbed his hands.

"Which road did you take? did you pass the Simplon?"

"No; I came straight from Vienna."

Then, relating with lively vein his adventures by the way, he continued to
delight Lord Lansmere by his gayety till the time came to retire to rest.
As soon as Harley was in his own room, his mother joined him.

"Well," said he, "I need not ask if you like Miss Digby? Who would not?"

"Harley, my own son," said the mother, bursting into tears, "be happy your
own way; only be happy, that is all I ask."

Harley, much affected, replied gratefully and soothingly to this fond
injunction. And then gradually leading his mother on to converse of Helen,
asked abruptly--"And of the chance of our happiness--her happiness as well
as mine--what is your opinion? Speak frankly."

"Of _her_ happiness, there can be no doubt," replied the mother, proudly.
"Of yours, how can you ask me? Have you not decided on that yourself?"

"But still it cheers and encourages one in any experiment, however well
considered, to hear the approval of another. Helen has certainly a most
gentle temper."

"I should conjecture so. But her mind--"

"Is very well stored."

"She speaks so little--"

"Yes. I wonder why? She's surely a woman!"

"Pshaw," said the Countess, smiling, in spite of herself. "But tell me
more of the process of your experiment. You took her as a child, and
resolved to train her according to your own ideal. Was that