elderly peers,--one with the garter, the other
in the Cabinet,--jovial men who had been wild fellows once in the same
mess-room, and still joked at each other whenever they met as they met
now. Lionel, who remembered Vance's description of Lady Selina, and who
had since heard her spoken of in society as a female despot who carried
to perfection the arts by which despots flourish, with majesty to
impose, and caresses to deceive--an Aurungzebe in petticoats--was sadly
at a loss to reconcile such portraiture with the good-humoured, motherly
woman who talked to him of her home, her husband, her children, with
open fondness and becoming pride, and who, far from being so formidably
clever as the world cruelly gave out, seemed to Lionel rather below
par in her understanding; strike from her talk its kindliness, and the
residue was very like twaddle. After dinner, various members of the
Vipont family dropped in,--asked impromptu by Carr or by Lady Selina,
in hasty three-cornered notes, to take that occasion of renewing their
acquaintance with their distinguished connection. By some accident,
amongst those invited there were but few young single ladies; and,
by some other accident, those few were all plain. Honoria Vipont was
unequivocally the belle of the room. It could not but be observed that
Darrell seemed struck with her,--talked with her more than with any
other lady; and when she went to the piano, and played that great air
of Beethoven's, in which music seems to have got into a knot that only
fingers the most artful can unravel, Darrell remained in his seat aloof
and alone, listening no doubt with ravished attention. But just as the
air ended, and Honoria turned round to look for him, he was gone.

Lionel did not linger long after him. The gay young man went thence to
one of those vast crowds which seemed convened for a practical parody of
Mr. Bentham's famous proposition,--contriving the smallest happiness for
the greatest number.

It was a very good house, belonging to a very great person. Colonel
Morley had procured an invitation for Lionel, and said, "Go; you should
be seen there." Colonel Morley had passed the age of growing into
society: no such cares for the morrow could add a cubit to his
conventional stature. One amongst a group of other young men by the
doorway, Lionel beheld Darrell, who had arrived before him, listening to
a very handsome young lady, with an attention quite as earnest as that
which had grati