He turned away towards Evelyn as he spoke, and almost started to observe that she was joined by a stranger, whose approach he had not before noticed,--and that stranger a man of such remarkable personal advantages, that, had Maltravers been in Vargrave's position, he might reasonably have experienced a pang of jealous apprehension. Slightly above the common height; slender, yet strongly formed; set off by every advantage 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. "We have met before," said he, in embarrassed accents: "at Venice, I think!" Maltravers inclined his head rather stiffly at first, but then, as if moved by a second impulse, held out his hand cordially. "Oh, Mr. Ernest, here you are!" cried Sophy, bounding into the hall, followed by Mr. Merton, the old admiral, Caroline, and Cecilia. The interruption seemed welcome and opportune. The admiral, with blunt cordiality, expressed his pleasure at being made known to Mr. Maltravers. The conversation grew general; refreshments were proffered and declined; the visit drew to its close. It so happened that as the guests departed, Evelyn, from whose side the constant colonel had insensibly melted away, lingered last,--save, indeed, the admiral, who was discussing with Cleveland a new specific for the gout. And as Maltravers stood on the steps, Evelyn turned to him with all her beautiful _naivete_ of mingled timidity and kindness, and said,--