duplicity and--"

"Beauty," interrupted Audley, turning the conversation with practised
adroitness. "I am told that the count is one of the handsomest men in
Europe, much handsomer than his sister still, though nearly twice her
age. Tut, tut, Harley; fear not for me. I am proof against all feminine
attractions. This heart is dead."

"Nay, nay; it is not for you to speak thus,--leave that to me. But even
I will not say it. The heart never dies. And you; what have you lost?--
a wife; true: an excellent, noble-hearted woman. But was it love that
you felt for her? Enviable man, have you ever loved?"

"Perhaps not, Harley," said Audley, with a sombre aspect and in dejected
accents; "very few men ever have loved, at least as you mean by the word.
But there are other passions than love that kill the heart, and reduce us
to mechanism."

While Egerton spoke, Harley turned aside, and his breast heaved. There
was a short silence; Audley was the first to break it.

"Speaking of my lost wife, I am sorry that you do not approve what I have
done for her young kinsman, Randal Leslie."

HARLEY (recovering himself with an effort).--"Is it true kindness to bid
him exchange manly independence for the protection of an official
patron?"

AUDLEV.--"I did not bid him. I gave him his choice. At his age, I
should have chosen as he has done."