"Women have not often thought so," said Brandon. "I cannot believe that
they can think otherwise."

A certain expression, partaking of scorn, played over Brandon's hard
features. It was a noticeable trait in him, that while he was most
anxious to impress Lucy with a favourable opinion of Lord Mauleverer, he
was never quite able to mask a certain satisfaction at any jest at the
earl's expense, or any opinion derogatory to his general character for
pleasing the opposite sex; and this satisfaction was no sooner conceived
than it was immediately combated by the vexation he felt that Lucy did
not seem to share his own desire that she should become the wife of the
courtier. There appeared as if in that respect there was a contest in
his mind between interest on one hand and private dislike or contempt on
the other.

"You judge women wrongly!" said Brandon. "Ladies never know each other;
of all persons, Mauleverer is best calculated to win them, and experience
has proved my assertion. The proudest lot I know for a woman would be
the thorough conquest of Lord Mauleverer; but it is impossible. He may
be gallant, but he will never be subdued. He defies the whole female
world, and with justice and impunity. Enough of him. Sing to me, dear
Lucy."

The time for the ball approached; and Lucy, who was a charming girl and
had nothing of the angel about her, was sufficiently fond of gayety,
dancing, music, and admiration to feel her heart beat high at the
expectation of the event.

At last the day itself came. Brandon dined alone with Mauleverer, having