"Thou dost not love. Bid farewell for ever to thy fond dreams of a life
more blessed than that of mortals. From the stormy sea of the future
are blotted out eternally for thee--Calypso and her Golden Isle. Thou
canst no more paint on the dim canvas of thy desires the form of her
with whom thou couldst dwell for ever. Thou hast been unfaithful to
thine own ideal--thou hast given thyself for ever and for ever to
another--thou hast renounced hope--thou must live as in a prison, with a
being with whom thou hast not the harmony of love."

"No matter," said Maltravers, almost alarmed, and starting from these
thoughts, "I am betrothed to one who loves me--it is folly and dishonour
to repent and to repine. I have gone through the best years of youth
without finding the Egeria with whom the cavern would be sweeter than a
throne. Why live to the grave a vain and visionary Nympholept? Out of
the real world could I have made a nobler choice?"

While Maltravers thus communed with himself, Lady Florence passed into
her father's dressing-room, and there awaited his return from London.
She knew his worldly views--she knew also the pride of her affianced,
and, she felt that she alone could mediate between the two.

Lord Saxingham at last returned--busy, bustling, important, and
good-humoured as usual. "Well, Flory, well?--glad to see you--quite
blooming, I declare,--never saw you with such a colour--monstrous like
me, certainly. We always had fine complexions and fine eyes in our
family. But I'm rather late--first bell rung--we /ci-devant jeunes
hommes/ are rather long dressing, and you are not dressed yet, I see."

"My dearest father, I wished to speak with you on a matter of much
importance."