of dress, of air, of the nameless tone and pervading refinement that
sometimes, though not always, springs from early and habitual intercourse
with the most polished female society,--Colonel Legard, at the age of
eight and twenty, had acquired a reputation for beauty almost as popular
and as well known as that which men usually acquire by mental
qualifications. Yet there was nothing effeminate in his countenance, the
symmetrical features of which were made masculine and expressive by the
rich olive of the complexion, and the close jetty curls of the
Antinous-like hair.

They seemed, as they there stood--Evelyn and Legard--so well suited to
each other in personal advantages, their different styles so happily
contrasted; and Legard, at the moment, was regarding her with such
respectful admiration, and whispering compliment to her in so subdued a
tone, that the dullest observer might have ventured a prophecy by no
means agreeable to the hopes of Lumley Lord Vargrave.

But a feeling or fear of this nature was not that which occurred to
Maltravers, or dictated his startled exclamation of surprise.

Legard looked up as he heard the exclamation, and saw Maltravers, whose
back had hitherto been turned towards him. He, too, was evidently
surprised, and seemingly confused; the colour mounted to his cheek, and
then left it pale.

"Colonel Legard," said Cleveland, "a thousand apologies for my neglect: I
really did not observe you enter,--you came round by the front door, I
suppose. Let me make you acquainted with Mr. Maltravers."

Legard bowed low.