Marie's reverie, as she stood there holding one soft hand pressed over the back of the other, where Marcus Glen's lips had been, was interrupted by the voice of Clotilde. "Rie: has he gone?" "Yes," said her sister, with a look of disgust, almost loathing, in her face. "Poor boy! I hope he won't mind much. I say, Rie, you can have him now. I'll make you a present of his love. No, I won't," she said, flashing into life. "You shan't look at him. If you do, I'll tell him such things about you as shall drive him away." The sisters stood there upon the stairs gazing angrily one at the other, and Ruth, whose heart felt very sore, watched them in turn, and thought how hard all this was for Captain Glen, and also, with a sigh, how weak he must be. "But they are both so handsome," she said to herself half aloud; and then, with a kind of shiver, she began to think about Mr Montaigne. Volume 2, Chapter XI. LADY LITTLETOWN'S DIPLOMACY. Mr Elbraham had not been long making up his mind to eschew shilly-shallying, and to propose at once. He was a clever man of business, and no one knew better than he how to work a few shares upon the Stock Exchange, and float a company so as to pour thousands into the laps of its promoters; but he had a weak side, and his late action was taken a good deal on account of the opposition he met with from his private secretary. "Going to dine with `the maids of honour' at Hampton Court!" said this latter gentleman, looking up in astonishment as his principal announced his intention; "why, you grumbled at having to go to Lady Littletown's the other day, and she does give good dinners." "Capital," said the financier, smacking his lips. "But you won't get anything fit to eat at the Palace." "My object is to get into better society," said the financier promptly; "and the Dymcoxes are people of position. Of course, you know I met them there." "Ah, to be sure; so you did. Well, they certainly belong to a good family." "Yes," said Mr Elbraham, strutting pompously up and down the room. "Lovely girl that Miss Clotilde!" "Well, I don't know," said Arthur Litton; "she is handsome, certainly." "Humph! I should think she is, sir." "But I've seen many finer women," continued Litton. "Not my style of girl at all." "Should think not, indeed," said Elbraham hotly. "Bah, sir! stuff, sir! rubbish, sir! What do you know about handsome women?" "Well, certainly," said Litton humbly, and with a smile, as the financier walked away from him down the room--a smile which was replaced by a look as serious as that of the proverbial judge, when the great man turned; "I suppose my opinion is not worth much." "I should think not, indeed. I tell you she is magnificent." "Oh, nonsense, my dear sir," said Litton warmly; "handsome if you like, but magnificent--no! You know dozens of finer women." "Maybe, maybe," said the financier.