"Does she really admire me, mother? This beautiful girl, who has all the grandees in Rome at her feet--does she really admire me?" "I have said it," laughed my lady. "Who told you, mother? How do you know?" "I shall not tell you, Lance; sufficient for you to know that it is quite true, and that I consider I am simply acting as prudence dictates. I should admire you, Lance, if I were a young girl myself." "I am very much flattered," he said, slowly. "Even if it be true, mother, I do not quite see why you should think so much prudence needful. I admire Lady Marion; why should we not be friends?" "Would the tempestuous young person like it, Lance?" asked my lady. And it is very painful to state that an exceedingly strong and highly improper word came from between Lord Chandos' closed lips. "Do not tease me, mother. I see no harm in it; if I did, be quite sure I would not do it. Lady Marion and I can always be friends. I like her and admire her; there is a certain kind of repose about her that I enjoy. Why should we not be friends?" "Be friends if you like," said Lady Lanswell; "but if, in the course of a few weeks, you find that mutual admiration does not answer, do not blame me." From that day Lady Lanswell laid aside all pretense at scruple, and allowed matters to go as they would; she visited the young heiress constantly, and smiled when she saw that her son was becoming, day by day, more attracted to her. She noticed another thing, too, with keen pleasure, and it was that, although the same number of letters came from England, not half so many went there. "A step in the right, direction," thought my lady; "I shall succeed after all." To do Lord Chandos justice, he was quite blind to the danger that surrounded him. He intended to be true to Leone--he had no other desire, no other wish--he had never contemplated for one moment the act of deserting her; he would have denounced any one who even hinted at such a thing. But he was young, she was beautiful, they were in sunny Italy. And he never dreamed of loving her. They were friends, that was all; they were to be exceptions to the general rule--they were to be friends, without any of the elements of love or flirtation marring their intercourse. Only friends. Yet in the beginning of May when Lady Cambrey and her ward declined to return to England for the summer, but resolved to spend it in Naples, Lord Chandos went there also, without feeling at all sure that he would be back in London by June. CHAPTER XXVII. "TELL ME YOUR SECRET."