library, unlocked his escritoire, and took out that letter which, the
reader will remember, Maltravers had written to Cesarini, and which
Lumley had secured; carefully did he twice read over this effusion, and
the second time his face brightened and his eyes sparkled. It is now
time to lay this letter before the reader: it ran thus:--


/"Private and confidential."/

"MY DEAR CESARINI:

"The assurance of your friendly feelings is most welcome to me. In much
of what you say of marriage, I am inclined, though with reluctance, to
agree. As to Lady Florence herself, few persons are more calculated to
dazzle, perhaps to fascinate. But is she a person to make a home
happy--to sympathise where she has been accustomed to command--to
comprehend, and to yield to the waywardness and irritability common to
our fanciful and morbid race--to content herself with the homage of a
single heart? I do not know her enough to decide the question; but I
know her enough to feel deep solicitude and anxiety for your happiness,
if centred in a nature so imperious and so vain. But you will remind me
of her fortune, her station. You will say that such are the sources
from which, to an ambitious mind, happiness may well be drawn! Alas! I
fear that the man who marries Lady Florence must indeed confine his
dreams of felicity to those harsh and disappointing realities. But,
Cesarini, these are not words which, were we more intimate, I would
address to you. I doubt the reality of those affections which you
ascribe to her and suppose devoted to yourself. She is evidently fond
of conquest. She sports with the victims she makes. Her vanity dupes
others, perhaps to be duped itself at last. I will not say more to you.