and twelve."




CHAPTER VIII.

If any one could be more surprised at seeing Lord L'Estrange at the house
of Madame di Negra that evening than the fair hostess herself, it was
Randal Leslie. Something instinctively told him that this visit
threatened interference with whatever might be his ultimate projects in
regard to Riccabocca and Violante. But Randal Leslie was not one of
those who shrink from an intellectual combat. On the contrary, he was
too confident of his powers of intrigue not to take a delight in their
exercise. He could not conceive that the indolent Harley could be a
match for his own restless activity and dogged perseverance. But in a
very few moments fear crept on him. No man of his day could produce a
more brilliant effect than Lord L'Estrange, when he deigned to desire it.
Without much pretence to that personal beauty which strikes at first
sight, he still retained all the charm of countenance, and all the grace
of manner, which had made him in boyhood the spoiled darling of society.
Madame di Negra had collected but a small circle round her; still it was
of the elite of the great world,--not, indeed, those more precise and
reserved /dames de chateau/, whom the lighter and easier of the fair
dispensers of fashion ridicule as prudes; but nevertheless, ladies were
there, as unblemished in reputation, as high in rank, flirts and
coquettes, perhaps,--nothing more; in short, "charming women,"--the gay
butterflies that hover over the stiff parterre. And there were
ambassadors and ministers, and wits and brilliant debaters, and first-
rate dandies (dandies, when first-rate, are generally very agreeable