"It is the weakness of the sex, my dear lord," said Lumley; "they like
to patronise, and they dote upon all oddities, from China monsters to
cracked poets. But I fancy, by a restless glance cast every now and
then around the room, that my beautiful cousin has in her something of
the coquette."

"There you are quite right, Lumley," returned Lord Saxingham, laughing;
"but I will not quarrel with her for breaking hearts and refusing hands,
if she do but grow steady at last, and settle into the Duchess of
------."

"Duchess of ------!" repeated Lumley, absently; "well, I will go and
present myself. I see she is growing tired of the signor. I will sound
her as to the ducal impressions, my dear lord."

"Do--I dare not," replied the father; "she is an excellent girl, but
heiresses are always contradictory. It was very foolish to deprive me
of all control over her fortune. Come and see me again soon, Lumley. I
suppose you are going abroad?"

"No, I shall settle in England; but of my prospects and plans more
hereafter."

With this, Lumley quietly glided away to Florence. There was something
in Ferrers that was remarkable from its very simplicity. His clear,
sharp features, with the short hair and high brow--the absolute
plainness of his dress, and the noiseless, easy, self-collected calm of
all his motions, made a strong contrast to the showy Italian, by whose
side he now stood. Florence looked up at him with some little surprise
at his intrusion.