inviting him to pay us a visit. We have spare rooms in our apartments."

Isaura's heart heaved beneath her robe, but she replied in a tone of
astonishing indifference: "I believe this is the height of the London
season, and Mr. Vane would probably be too engaged to profit even by an
invitation so tempting."

"_Nous verrons_. How pleased he will be to hear of your triumphs! He
admired you so much before you were famous: what will be his admiration
now! men are so vain--they care for us so much more when people praise
us. But till we have put the creatures in their proper place, we must
take them for what they are."

Here the Venosta, with whom the poor Colonel had exhausted all the arts
at his command for chaining her attention, could be no longer withheld
from approaching Mrs. Morley, and venting her admiration of that lady's
wreath, earrings, robes, flounces. This dazzling apparition had on her
the effect which a candle has on a moth--she fluttered round it, and
longed to absorb herself in its blaze. But the wreath especially
fascinated her--a wreath which no prudent lady with colourings less pure,
and features less exquisitely delicate than the pretty champion of the
rights of women, could have fancied on her own brows without a shudder.
But the Venosta in such matters was not prudent. "It can't be dear," she
cried piteously, extending her arms towards Isaura. "I must have one
exactly like. Who made it? Cara signora, give me the address."

"Ask the Colonel, dear Madame; he chose and bought it," and Mrs. Morley
glanced significantly at her well-tutored Frank.

"Madame," said the Colonel, speaking in English, which he usually did