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Douglas," she continued, returning to the siege; "it would be such a sweet study for a clergyman; I shall lend you Cassels' Natural History, and you must promise to read it for my sake," she said gushingly. Meanwhile, Trevalyon tried in vain to catch the drift of conversation between Vaura and her neighbour, but no, Mrs.
Haughton, noting, regretfully, how delicate she looked. "So that he does not give me a bear's hug, I shall survive it." "It would be very pleasant this raw morning. Farewell, Lady Esmondet, a gay trip to you," said Mrs. Haughton. "Good-bye, Alice," and her hand is held tightly; "take care of yourself; I know you will of Vaura. Remember Christmas at Haughton."
Lady Esmondet's remark was carried with different variations to the end of the salon, where Vaura sat. She was immediately besieged with questions. "What is this rumour, Miss Vernon," asked an Englishman; "is Trevalyon to be raised to the peerage?" "For his looks of an Adonis and many fascinations," cried one. "No, for his many affaires de coeur," laughed another.
"How often, indeed," said her godmother, sadly; "but by the prancing of steeds in the court yard," she continued, smiling bravely, "one must conclude the steamer has arrived." "'Tis well one can don society's mask at will," said Vaura. "Yes, dear, and 'tis quite unnecessary to bare one's heart to the million," she answered, with her usual composure.
"What a tyrant the mighty god Society is," cried Bertram, "ignores a man's tastes; expects him to flatten himself at a crush immediately after a good dinner." "Try and be ours again at Christmas," de Vesey was saying to Vaura. "Without fail" said another "our city is glorious at the birth-day of the Christ."
Delrose had unconsciously given his foe some ecstatic moments, for the crowd so pressed about him to hear what answer he would make to the bold denial of the black-bearded Major that Vaura was close enough to hear his heart-beats, and to whom he whispered brokenly "All the nun's words will not avail, darling, after his false denial; I must bring on my other proofs for both our sakes, beloved."
Vaura will make a great sensation this coming season; she has made some conquests to-night, that cream-white satin with her diamonds and these old fashioned gold bands, suit her to perfection. She enjoys wielding the sceptre and she does it with such seeming unconsciousness, and absence of vanity that is very charming, never boasting of her conquests even to me."
"True, Vaura, and any new passage at arms between our good Queen Victoria's prophet, Earl Beaconsfield and that earnest defender of the Liberal faith, Gladstone; and, this winter, if I mistake not, we shall have stirring times, we are getting ourselves into a tight place; England will have to keep one eye on the East, the other on her Armoury."
"So should I," said Vaura "the French are a dear, delightful people, really living in the flying moments, their gay cheerfulness acting on one as a stimulant; the veriest trifles are said by them in a pleasing manner all their own; yes we have much to envy the versatile Gaul for."
"Yes, Vaura, dear, Tennyson says truly, 'we men are a little breed." But a warmer light deepens in Vaura's eyes as a vision of a handsome face, wearing at times a weary look, flashes across her memory, and she thinks some men are worth loving, and are not of the "little breed." "What a bold-looking woman; I wonder who she is," said Lady Esmondet.
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