eance, fate threw in her way young
Mowbray of St. Ronan's. She looked at him, and endeavoured to fix his
attention with a nod and gracious smile, such as in an ordinary mood
would have instantly drawn him to her side. On receiving in answer only
a vacant glance and a bow, she was led to observe him more attentively,
and was induced to believe, from his wavering look, varying complexion,
and unsteady step, that he had been drinking unusually deep. Still his
eye was less that of an intoxicated than of a disturbed and desperate
man, one whose faculties were engrossed by deep and turbid reflection,
which withdrew him from the passing scene.

"Do you observe how ill Mr. Mowbray looks?" said she, in a loud
whisper; "I hope he has not heard what Lady Penelope was just now saying
of his family?"

"Unless he hears it from you, my lady," answered Mr. Touchwood, who,
upon Mowbray's entrance, had broken off his discourse with MacTurk, "I
think there is little chance of his learning it from any other person."

"What is the matter?" said Mowbray, sharply, addressing Chatterly and
Winterblossom; but the one shrunk nervously from the question,
protesting, he indeed had not been precisely attending to what had been
passing among the ladies, and Winterblossom bowed out of the scrape with
quiet and cautious politeness--"he really had not given particular
attention to what was passing--I was negotiating with Mrs. Jones for an
additional lump of sugar to my coffee.--Egad, it was so difficult a
piece of diplomacy," he added, sinking his voice, "that I have an idea
her ladyship calculates the West India produce by grains and
pennyweights."

The innuendo, if designed to make Mowbray smile, was far from
succeeding. He stepped forward, with more than usual stiffness in his
air, which was never entirely free from self-consequence, and said to
Lady Binks, "May I request to know of your ladyship what particular
respecting my family had the honour to engage the attention of the
company?"

"I was only a listener, Mr. Mowbray," returned Lady Binks, with evident
enjoyment of the rising indignation which she read in his countenance;
"not being queen of the night, I am not at all disposed to be answerable
for the turn of the conversation."

Mowbray, in no humour to bear jesting, yet afraid to expose himself by
farther enquiry in a company so public, darted a fierce look at Lady
Penelope, then in close conversation with Lord Etherington,--advanced